Aftermath: Dredd 3D
by Tardus et stabilis
Summary: I should have died when Mama did. I should have died when the doctors discovered my abnormality. I should have died when I was exposed to that much radiation. But someone decided to save me. Again and again. Only logic and a harsh grip with reality will keep you alive, everything else must be taught to be irrelevant. Yet I'm fighting my own addiction to an unwilling drug. Dredd.
1. We Can Fight Our Desires

_**Hello Peach Tree's, this is Ma-ma. Somewhere in this story, you might recognize it, it is Aftermath. Ma-ma had to take it down and do a little work and post it again. I want you to read it and review it. As for you my first time readers, enjoy this. Or not. Either way your reviewing it. Everyone else, stay the fuck out of our way until the shooting stops.**_

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"The sentence is death." Choking noises filled my ears momentarily. He was going to kill Mama, and in turn, that little bracelet will kill us all. **Like it even matters, you already failed so it's probably the better ending anyway**. "How do you plead?"

"Defence noted." The tinkling of shattered glass cut off a scream- god, he did it. Perps? Dead. Civilians? Alive. **But not for long if Ma-ma's telling the truth. **Job? Done. Mission? Failed.

**Get off the floor Rookie! The missions not over until your out of the building. **Blinking rapidly, trying to get the floor to come back into focus, I began to rack my brain. Dredd is alive- or was a minute ago, he was standing next to me. There was a Ma-Ma and her mooks. Guns went off, he hit six, and I hit four. Then there was tearing and adrenaline, a painless wound.

Vomit began to fill my throat as the shock wore off; the gunshot hitting me like the concrete floor my head was suddenly pressed against. 'Put pressure on the wound,' screamed my training. 'Don't move your body,' begged my head. **Training first. Training first. Training first. **Rolling slightly I managed to press the exit wound to the ground, hoping it would be enough.

The fog was back, blurring the coppery smell of my blood with the smell of smoke and bodies. The neon graffiti was melting into the walls, until everything was a vortex of grey. I didn't even make a difference. I really wasn't cut out to be a Judge- I can't take it. **Dredd got shot through the side and took out his own damn bullet. Me? I rolled around on the ground and puked. Kay was right- **

"Yeah," the husky growl reverberated around the room, grounding me for a few fleeting seconds, "Rookie-" the same voice whispered but my racing pulse drowned out whatever he said next. The pain was back and I was flying, fog lifting me out of my head. My whole body seized, what was left of my breakfast making its way up to my mouth. Blackness overtook me.

"Rookie? Anderson… Anderson! Don't go to sleep on me! You close your eyes and you're dead." A part of me that wasn't trying not to cry rolled its eyes and wondered how if I would be the one in five rookies- **potentially from the standard injuries, or he would probably just kill me.** Then hands were on me, under my legs and torso lifting. His rolling gate made me want to cry out in agony, but I couldn't remember how to open my mouth. **I can't take this. I can't take this. I can't take this.**

Just when I thought I would break down and cry, Dredd gently laid me against a hard cold surface. Something stabbed me and the fog was gone. I was awake. Opening my eyes as wide as I could, light rushed in painfully, my heart flying. It was too much; sweat began to run rivulets down my body. Warm hands, big ones, and rough, pulling at my vest, opened it, and unzipped the jump suit.

Almost apprehensively or indecisively, they moved to the edge of the fabric before quickly jerking my suit open. A hiss that was not mine echoed through the small steel elevator. Must be bad, I thought, to get him to react. **You impressed Judge Dredd, congratulations all you had to do was get shot.** Hands were moving again, and pain. Lots of burning. And then nothing.

"Anderson. Look at me." His usual growl broke to a smooth deep voice I had only heard him use once. If I could see his eyes I'm sure they would be huge. I tried to obey him, but the brief moment of focus was fading into my blood-matted hair, the shot of adrenaline pounding its way out of my body. "Look at me." His voice was so different from the growl, but still a deep demanding rumble yet without the anger. It was fear and need guarded be hind false calmness and irritation. My eyes roved up to the visor on his mask, latching on to the cross of the x.

"Good Anderson, I'm here. Don't close your eyes, no matter what. This is going to hurt but I need you to focus." I felt burning metal reaching inside of the exit wound with a sickening popping sound. I gasped and my back arched against its will, choking on a scream.

"Anderson. We need to remain quiet - unless you are hoping to leave in body bags. " His words were harsh, but the way he froze- staring at me intently with his invisible eyes- made me feel like he almost cared. **Don't make me laugh (seriously I might puke again)-a Judge, Judge Dredd caring about something other then the Mega City. ** "The capillaries are closed, that should stop some bleeding. Your going to be okay, you have enough blood to sustain yourself. The bullet exited by itself. You're going to be okay, you're lucky I won't need to remove it manually. You're going to be okay. Look at me Anderson- this part- this won't be- I'm- just- you're going to be okay," his hands moved fast.

I heard the rapid clicking from deep inside my side before I felt it…. the pain, the ache, the burn, the nausea…. My vision saw the red X and then nothing.

Am I dead? It's so black. So big. No sooner had it occurred to be then did flickering lights fill the room. An armchair, a lazy boy if the label was to be trusted sat solitarily in the cavernous space. A little plastic doll sat alone on the couch, one arm missing and the face nearly rubbed off from excessive love.

"Mommy!" a shrill voice screamed, words unpractised and slippery. "Daddy!" she sobbed into the clammy air. **Unidentified female, in between ages of five and eight in distress- possible kidnaping or assault.**

But something was different. I knew this place. I knew this room. Sweat began to gather at my temples and my upper lip itch. Unconsciously I had already positioned my self to shoot if necessary- but my command hand reached to hold the doll. My leather-clad fingers caressed the worn surface looking for a memory I had tried to forget.

**I know this doll…. **Before I could begin to figure out where from the light began to swing, shadows began to morph into new shapes, the chair dissolve into the ground, and the doll to melt in my hand. The flowers on the newly visible wallpaper fell to the ground wilting and bleaching the walls until all that was left was a long white hallway.

"Anderson," a mans voice called. A white jacket. Saline and stainless steal. "Anderson..." Sporadic beeping and rushing feet. "Anderson..." A high pitch ring and running. "Anderson?" Electricity fizzling and gargling breaths. "Anderson!" Sad faces and a woman in a suit. Small room with grey walls.

"Anderson!" a hand was on me pressing and shaking, "wake up, I don't have enough adrenaline shots, I need you to look at me."

Memories bounced around my head, trying to place the doll and snippets of that girl's life. I knew I know her, I know that place I've been there before. I couldn't think, the sick smell of burnt flesh and fresh vomit intermingled with blood made me wish I could just black out again. But then again, the hard glint of florescent lighting reflecting off of the bloodied bullets on the floor made a compelling case for fighting the fog.

The pain was a dull ache with the occasional twinge, but improving by the second with the medication under the bandages, leaving my mind free to wander to the target sign on my pale and clammy skin.

The bandages wrapping around my stomach and lower torso were saturated in blood and yellow goo. On basic assessment it looked worse then it was. I could still feel the self tightening staples gripping into my skin looking to seal as soon as possible, but it wasn't that bad. The internal pain was fine, the burning pretty much killed every nerve ending in there. **Pro's and cons to that development**, I silently scoffed.

"Rookie- assessment is still in progress. If you can move you should- dress and prepare. We might have engaged all of the known perps- but until we're out of the crime scene we are not relieved of duty." I swear there was a hint of nervousness the flickered across his mind, but it was fleeting to the point that with the medicine coursing through my blood I couldn't be sure.

"Oh- right. Yes sir." I tried to sound unaffected. But the blood rushing to my face at the realization of my positioning and state of undress was giving my acting a run for its money in hiding my shock. Being stared at by this legend while lying in a pool of my own blood and puke with my breasts almost entirely exposed? Maintains to be one of the more humiliating experiences of my existence. **Nice job Anderson, way to make an impression.**

With unsteady arms and legs I rolled into a kneeling position, both my hands pulling at the zipper, moving fast as I could trying to hide the raging blush. My shining action girl moment on the two hundredth floor seemed to be evaporating leaving my painfully aware of my own idiocy.

Fourteen years. Fourteen years of fifteen-hour days working solely on being a judge and this is my skill level. All my classes. All my training. Here I am, kneeling in my own fluids struggling to get dressed. Fourteen years. Done. Fin. Kaput. Just like that. I couldn't even be adequate on my second try. I studied harder for my tests, I trained longer, I pushed myself further, yet somehow I end up loosing my gun to a perp and freeing a potential felon. I failed. I failed on a retake I exclusivley got to do. Not thinking, my hand grasping the zipper jerked it as hard as I could- as if covering my body would hide my own blunders and shortcomings.

My knees had supported most of my weight until then- the pain was dizzying causing me to stumble against the wall. Choking back tears, falling over my legs I froze.** Stay** **in control,** I chanted in my mind. A new wave of nausea started in the pit of my stomach right at the staples, the pain growing worse with every moment I stayed standing. My hands instinctively went to apply pressure, hoping my organs would stay put. **Do not let Dredd see you fall apart, you must stay strong.**

As if sensing my loosing battle- both with my body and mind Dredd turned away from my hunched (but still relatively standing) form. Treating me like a goddamn civilian. His long shadowy figure pivoted to the corner, kicking my vest to my feet, with hands clasped in front of his groin and head proudly angled- he gave the wall the full brunt of his death stare.

He can't even stomach looking at me- he has to aim it at a wall instead. **Way to go Anderson.** **Not only have you wasted the first twenty one years of your life you've also managed to piss off the most feared judge in Mega City One **_**and**_** Two. Fantastic. **

Well- at the rate this elevator is moving we've got another two minutes till we hit the atrium. **This isn't awkward, nope, just two fully armed adults standing in a pile of my bodily fluids**. Quickly pulling on the vest and _carefully _zipping it up, I wondered what I was supposed to do. Do I thank him? Do I apologize?

'_Hey Dredd, just want to say thanks for letting my fallow you today and generally messing up your mojo then saving my life and stuff, oh yeah and real sorry about that potential felon you think I set loose! Have a nice day!_' that would go well. Maybe I could just look inside his head… you know see what he thinks I should say… for science and all.

Just as my mind began to relax enough to hear the vortex of words scintillating under the helmet, the lanky shadow moved. Plink. Plink. Step by step he closed the distance until he was standing close enough for me to see the trademark Dredd snarl.

**Armed adult, no exit, get space and defensive stance.** But there was nowhere to go- my back was pressed to the metal elevator wall. This is how I'm going to die. He will tell me my charge is letting a felon leave the scene, ask me how I plead (not that it will matter) and then he will tell me the sentence is death and kill me.

"Anderson-" he paused, licking his lips and wavering on his words, "stay out of my head. It's enough for one person." His grimace then did something I'm not sure I knew existed. It curled into a (unpractised and half hearted) sneer. "Even for you-Judge Anderson."

"Yes sir-" I choked trying to sound neutral in the way that only judges could. But really, my thoughts were a mess. Did he just- did Dredd smile? At me? Dredd, as in the Dredd, judge Dredd. Mr Look-at-me-all-dedicated-to-the-law-emotionless-with- the-ever-present-scowl. **He called you Judge Anderson. **

But-but he said _even _for you. Meaning he thinks I can take it, he has expectations of me. Does that mean he respects me? Is that even possible? He thinks I can handle things? Maybe he'll ignore my two violations….

Another twinge of pain from the staples derailed my thoughts. My left hand slapped the wall while I grunted in pain. **Do not loose your shit in front of him. **I bit down on my lip, drawing blood, trying not to let the tears burning behind my eyes out.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dredd's face contort momentarily before rigidly pushing its way back to a grimace. **Fantastic, he gives you a sliver of respect and I look like I can handle a little pain. Go me. **

So much for 'even for you Judge.'

Judge?… but I'm not a Judge. I was Rookie, a Cadet, Miss Hotdog respects the system; he would never use the term Judge that loosely… He knows I'm not a Judge and never will be. But, he said _even for you _and he smiled… **he sneered.** Proxy, he complimented me and then called me a Judge. **What makes you think he was being serious? **

**You are not a Judge. You would be a terrible Judge, you were a terrible Cadet, and now you're a buff civilian with a good understanding of guns.**

**Sure you pulled yourself together for a few minutes there. You shot first and asked questions later but you failed none the less. Your done, Dredd can't respect someone who can't pass a simple test. Why should he? **

** Kay was right, Judge Drill is right, and Dredd will be. You're just not good enough for this, simple. You're not calm enough, not strong enough. **

Was he mocking me? He knows I'm not a Judge, he said it to hurt me. He can't arrest me or kill me but that doesn't mean he can emotionally hurt me. Well Mission Success. I hope you are happy.

It was like I was in a trance, like it wasn't real. I could see the numbers sliding down, I could feel the tension in the elevator, I knew it was happening. But I couldn't believe it. Its over, I will never be a Judge. It's over.

I could feel the tears building behind my eyes, but I would not let them pass. I will not embarrass myself again. My whole face scrunched, eyes closed so tight no self-pity would escape.

"Judge Anderson- stand ready. Get ready to clear the atrium." I didn't move, I couldn't. If I moved I would either start crying or hit him. Neither would end well for either of us. "Anderson, now! Move, or do I need to carry you again?"

That cinched it, without looking back at him I walked as fast as I could without looking desperate. I knew he was fallowing me, I could tell he was near- but I refused to look back. I will not glorify his actions by giving him the gratification of seeing it hurt me.

**Kid stop feeling sorry for your self and suck it up. Pity? Sadness? Regret? They are useless emotions. Anger? We can do something with. We need that now. Just make it last for now. **

Clenching my jaw and fists I increased my pace hoping for him to fall back. Of course he didn't. We both stood in front of the door waiting for it to open. I could feel his thoughts trying to enter my mind- but I don't want them. I don't need more.

I could tell he wanted to say something. I knew he was searching for words. But I don't want them. I don't want to hear more passive aggressive insults. I don't want this. I wanted to be- I wanted to grow up- wanted protect- make a difference- anything. Not this. Anything else.

The steel wall began to rise and I knew the world would leak through. I knew the chief would be on the other side and ask what happened. I knew reporters would want to know everything. I knew EMT's and the SJS's would want to poke and prod me.

I can't do this.

"Anderson." Dredd whispered. I tried to steal my self. I tried to be numb. I tried to be mature. So I turned to him. But in that moment my eyes met with his visor, the moment my hand reached for my badge- I was empty. I could see conflicted thoughts in his mind; I could see a mixture of regret and unsure trepidation. I knew he was trying to say something-

But I would not, no, could not hear it. When I took out my badge I knew it was over. I could feel parts of me dying. The world began to blur- I knew I was walking and I knew people were reaching for me. But it didn't matter.

I knew I was shoving people away. But I didn't care. I just wouldn't- couldn't- let Dredd see me break down. I found my self on my government issued motor cycle- for the last time. But it didn't matter.

I just rode. And rode.

I didn't know where I was going. I saw the blocks progressively more and more dangerous and the sun begin to set; I saw my gas gauge steadily drop. But it didn't matter. I knew I had stopped. I knew I was not alone anymore. I could feel eyes tracing my body, appraising it and questioning my presence. But I didn't care.

I ran. Not because I was afraid, but because I knew I couldn't keep myself together much longer. I ran until my lungs hurt, feet slapping the pavement- eyes shut not looking, not caring. I ran until my legs ached and my heart pounded painfully. I ran until I could feel myself swaying from the miles that had blurred past me. I ran until exhausted, I fell to the ground, crumbling against a metallic wall in an alley between to mega-towers.

"What the hell wrong with me!" I screamed into my blodied hands. I wasn't crying over the people I killed. I wasn't crying over the baby who will now never know her father. "I _should_ be dead. I don't deserve this!" I was not even crying because I'm in pain. I'm crying over me.

My shortcomings.

My failures.

My inability to detach.

My injuries.

My compassion.

My idiocy.

It was obvious, even to me, that I was hysterical. It wasn't the first time I lost control, but not in years, and never like this. Never deservingly. I clutched my legs and let the tears fall. I don't deserve to be alive. I should have died before I let my gun be taken. I should have died when Mama did. I should have died when the doctors discovered my abnormality. I should have died when I was exposed to that much radiation. I should have died. But instead someone decided to save me. Over and over again.

"Why did you save me?" my voice was choked and gargled in the back of my throat. "Why did you bother to try and have them train me?" I failed every Judge aptitude test. Every checkpoint. Every physical and emotional final. "Why did you try to make me a Judge? We both know I'm worthless."

I didn't say anything more; I had no more 'sorrys' left, no breath for questions I had no hope of getting answers for, no idea who I was talking to. My whole body was trembling, violently shaking in time with my poisonous thoughts.

Why. How. Who. Why? Why. How? Who? Who!

My mental masturbation was chasing its tail in a pointless round, all consuming questions brainwashed me until I didn't know where I was. I didn't care.

I should have heard heavy footsteps from the mouth of the alley, or the whistles and catcalls. I should have known their dirty thoughts and illegal intents. But I didn't care.

Out of seemingly no where- an arm wrapped around my neck and another over my mouth silencing my screams. Someone grabbed my ankles and lifted me off the ground. Somehow my mind didn't make the connection... didn't understand what these men were going to do. I didn't care.

**What are you doing? Fight back!**

"Well, well, well who do we gat' here?" Sneered a rumbling voice from the end of the alley.

"A lill' girl on the wron'side-o the track," a man close to my feet singsonged before roughly pulling my further towards the first voice.

"Not' just a girl- a Judge." A new man bragged, walking beside me, lowering his dirty face to my ear, "wanna play baby?" he whispered, slapping my bottom and squeezing to the point of pain.

"Some judge she is getting' caught like this." Yet another voice mused, sounding like he was by the mouth of the alley.

"Fuck! That means she's a…" The voice from my left called.

"Dibs on her first!" feet man yelled victoriously.

"I grabbed her, I get first!" The man that was keeping me in a chokehold whined.

"Yo! Sharing is carring."

"You two fags' can share her- there's more then enough to go around!" Two large hands moved forward roughly seizing my breasts pulling at my vest. I knew it would bruise but I couldn't care less.

Going from numbness to calculating is not a far leap; emotions do not play a role in Judgement. Only logic and a harsh grip with reality will keep you alive, everything else must be taught to be irrelevant. You cannot kill a perp with sadness. You cannot protect a city with disappointment. You cannot save your own life with fear. So you forget it and think.

Six men, late teens mid twenties- identities unknown. At least two armed, four with fighting experience, three under the influence unidentified substances. Easy.

Violence is second nature to a judge. **Or a failed judge. **Twist to the left so my ankles and wrists drop. Roll to the ground and knock the legs out from under feet-man. Rise to knees and elbow slam into trachea while wrist-man tries to grab me.

Put full body weight into a backward fall, wrap arms around wrist-mans neck, pull him over and under me. Stand above him, feet on either side of his chest, and eye gouge just to be sure he's dead. Roundhouse kick to Lefty before he can use the knife he held, latch hand into hair and slam head to the bricks.

**Three down; fifteen seconds. Not bad kiddo. **The other men were still in a daze, unsure of how their little play toy had gone from submissive to murderous that quickly.

Or at least I had assumes- all of a sudden I was flying- crashing into a dumpster. Boob-grabber was on me, pulling me down the metallic wall. All the while tugging at my jump suit, pressing me to the dirty concrete, keeping me pinned down. Then there were more feet from other men kicking at my ribs and cracking noises.

The heavy weight of the Boob-Grabber spread my legs and forced me to allow him closer. But not so close my free hand couldn't snake down to where boob grabber was thrusting against me.

I knew genitals are sensitive. **There is a reason steal cups are mandatory back in school and are built into male judges suits.** But I'd never touched any. I wasn't sure how much pressure to apply to make sure it was only pain no pleasure so I went ahead for as hard as I can- satisfied with the popping sound it created.

I guess it was enough because the man was on the ground screaming- he never saw my next move coming. Holding his head I slipped out from under him away from the feet. A simple jump on to his spine and his cries faded into gurgling.

The two remaining men were scared- but fear of dying is good motivation to win. I was against the wall before Butt-grabber's thoughts could betray him. End-of-the-alley-man swaggered up to the perp pressing against me and pressed something cold against my neck.

"You feel this judge? This is how you die. This is what is going to happen to all you pathetic judges. But it isn't going to be so easy for you. Get on the ground on your hands and knees. Try anything funny and you'll wish you were dead." With a shove I was on the down.

Before I had time to consider whether to comply or fight, I was lying flat with the knife trailing up my thighs and another over my throat. Shit. I can't move in any direction with out getting stabbed. **Anderson wait for an opportunity, you move now your dead, wait until you have a way out. **

The lower knife changed angles and in three long swipes the crotch of my jump suit fell to the ground. I could tell I was bleeding, I could tell I my knuckles and back were bruised, I could feel several broken ribs, I could feel myself being pinned down and hardness on my inner thighs pressing closer. **Anderson! **You will not take this from me! I will fight! **You can't move. You can't fight. Not yet- there is no opening for attack. **

"You have ten seconds to release the Judge or I will use lethal force," someone announced. Boob grabber stood sharply and poised him self to fight, but a blur of black leather fists made him fall to the ground grunting in pain before receiving a sharp kick to the neck. The unidentified man was cursing, his masked face contorting with rage. He lifted End-of –the-alley-man off of me, throwing him against the wall. "You are charged with attempted rape and attempted murder of a Judge. The sentence is death. How do you plead?"

"Fuck you Judge," he spat, blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. A gun shot rang out and the end-of-the-alley-man collapsed. I could hear someone running to my crumpled from. **Stand and prepare to defend yourself kid. Unidentified man, seemingly friendly but proven to be hostel and trained. **But I couldn't move, my staples had not fully sealed and my torn flesh was screaming for stillness.

"Control I've neutralized the situation we have six bodies for recycle at my GPS. Victim identified as Judge C. Anderson I'm taking her to base for medical treatment now." Silence "Yes I can speak to him now." Pause.

"Director… Yes sir… that can be arranged… Sir-…. With me? -Why? But-…. Yes sir…. Are you sure? … I understand sir…. The councils involved? Fantastic… Yes sir. If you think it best… It's my duty sir." A deep voice whispered into a phone angry, but trying to hide it. Who is that? I don't recognise it, it was like silk and gravel rolling around inside of my ears.

The voice was lulling me into an aching sleep, it had a hypnotic quality to it I couldn't place. But at the same time it was dangerous, like you don't want to cross it. His arms wrapped under me, lifting my body just like Dredd had just hours ago. Before long he was putting me down, resting me against himself, and we were flying.

Snapping my eyes open only furthered my confusion. I'm on a standard government issued motorcycle driven by a man in a Judges uniform. **He has no way of knowing everything... Just as long as it isn't Dredd. Please don't be Dredd. Please don't be Dredd. Please don't be Dredd.**

"Anderson." **Aw fuck. It's Dredd.** "I understand I will have more explanation later but you need immediate medical care. Director of Council Relations wants us to avoid the hospitals until the events in the wake of Peach Tree's settles down." I could feel the unease and gravity of what he was trying to say, radiating off of him.

I knew he was talking to me. I knew it was important. I was curious- Dredd nervous? But I couldn't hear. Everything hurt. I just needed to close my eyes and breath. **Don't feel. Don't feel. You're okay. Breath kid. Just breath. Try to focus. Try-**

Cold darkness surrounded me- lifting me. I was flying. Up and up- my body was gone. I was dreaming or dying, I wasn't sure but I didn't care. I'm flying. My numb fingers caressed the rough stubble my head was resting on. I was flying. My cold body was against something warm. Away and away higher and higher, I knew I was going somewhere wonderful.

Looking down from my perch in the sky I saw an ant- a man- a speck calling my name. Funny the speck looks worried- looks angry. Why should he be sad? I'm flying-. His mouth was angry but I couldn't see his face- who are you speck man? My name slipped from the invisible face, the angry sad man.

"You can't sleep yet. Open your eyes Judge Anderson." **Ant Man? Don't remind me about that- I don't want to think about that- I just want to fly right now. **I suppose I said it out loud, I suppose the low rumble was a growled chuckle, but its hard to tell when your miles away.

"Judge- we made and exception. Your talents combined with dedication make up for loosing your weapon, which you recovered by yourself," the voice paused- the voice sounding strained. "-besides I think that little show in the alley proves you can handle yourself if necessary."

The alley…. I came crashing down from where I had been flying. Those men… did they? Oh God. They didn't, right? They were shot before they could. I would know if I wasn't a… Right? Oh God. What does he mean I could handle it? I engaged four of the men but Dredd only saw the bodies.

"I **let **them attack me. I would be terminated or worse if you hadn't found me…" I said in dreamy dead voice. I knew my actions were in excusable. "If I were still in school I would be kicked out." It doesn't matter if he maked me a Judge I don't deserve it. I'm not good enough.

"No you wouldn't. Anderson- if I had intervened two minutes later there wouldn't have been much for me to do. Now listen because I will say this once and only once; you are different," I opened my mouth to say that's just a huge hit of mutantingenites but the look he sent me over his shoulder shut me up. "Not just because you are a mind-reader."

'How!' I wanted to scream but I could tell by his erect posture and the newly authoritative tone the conversation was over. But I don't suppose it mattered if he wanted to talk more- it wasn't if I could talk.

Bodies have a natural response to pain- to let you know its happening so you can fix it or to ignore it when you are panicked. The adrenaline from fighting had spared me the worst of my injuries, but now lying against the back of the most dangerous man in Mega City One my body decided it was safe. **Not good assessment jackass.**

Pain management was never my forte, but the sharp turns Dredd made every few moments were only increasing my need to hurl. My open wounds on the exposed skin along my inner thighs roughly scraped against the leather, my abdomen trembling with the effort of staying up straight.

It was a matter of pride really, trying to look like I didn't need anyone. I didn't want to lean against him. I didn't want to be the damsel in distress. I didn't want Dredd to save me. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Yet somehow the last thing I felt before everything went black was my chest pressed against a warm leather jacket.

* * *

I was warm. So soft, so nice. It smells like spice, leather, and lived in rooms. Not like the academy at all. My body hurt, but not the worst it's been. 'Judge Drill' must have kicked our asses again. She's good at that. **Glad were not on watch tonight' huh kid?** Rolling on my side I smiled content, falling back asleep.

_There was a dark room with nothing in it, except a chair. On that chair sat a doll with no face- it had been rubbed off from excessive love. There was a shrieks from a little girl looking for her parents. Rubbing alcohol. Saline. Steal. Beepers going wild. Flat lining. Running. The little girl sitting by herself in the waiting room. Sad faced doctors. The doctor's mouth was moving but the words didn't make sense. A voice that might have been my own screamed_

"Anderson!" hands were shaking me. "Wake up- your dreaming, you're okay." My eyes flew open; I was sitting up right- unsure of where I was.

Looking down I was dressed in a large mans T-shirt and sweat pants far to large for me. Wow, my hands are miles away but, like, my face is, all right, like, at my fingertips. **Okay no more anaesthetic for you Kiddo, you're a few bullets short of a round right now.**

"Are you alright Anderson? You're shaking." Dredd's voice echoed around the little room sounding a mixture between board and uncomfortable.

"Yes sir, I'm fine Sir." My voice sounded dazed from sleep and drugs. "Just a side effect of pain killers- It makes me cold." I chattered, not realizing how true that was until I said it.

"I see," the gravel sounded truly uneasy now. The vortex was pulling me back-his thoughts**. Don't. Anderson…. **

It wasn't like I was trying to hear him; in fact I was actively trying not to. But it was like he was screaming the world through his eyes at me. His thoughts were moving to fast for me to read but his vision slipped into mine.

His eyes were on me, predictably. My face was in the peripheral, my hair a mess with some blood still in it. **We need a shower. **My face was undamaged except for a long arching cut along my eyebrow, but he wasn't focusing on my injuries like I expected. His eyes kept trailing to a bandage, or stich, or some bruise but would wander back up against his will. I could feel him fighting it- and loosing.

**Dredd losing at something- alert the media and declare it a state of emergency due to the upcoming apocalypse. **His focus was on my chest, my broken ribs? Or was he…

What the hell? Dredd was staring at me… there? But why? I'm cold- so it's more apparent but- he's a Judge, a damn good one at that, why would he care. I know _some _Judges struggle with _that _aspect of our life but certainly not Dredd. I must be misinterpreting it. Yeah… that would make sense. I probably took a punch to the sternum or something… I mean it was all so fast it wouldn't surprise me if I had more injuries that I hadn't noticed. Definitely that.

**God, its good you don't do any drugs- some mild painkillers and here you are thinking the best and most disciplined Judge on the face of the planet is looking at my breasts**. I need to get the med's out of the system.

"I suppose I have some explaining to do as to where and why you're here." Right. Yeah, in strange building -that might be a good thing to be thinking about. Wow.

**Remind me how we survived the academy?**

"Please do," trying to control my voice to sound as calm and level headed as Dredd was difficult- but I don't think he heard my embarrassed cluelessness.

"The council heard about what happened at Peach Trees. They were impressed that both of us got out alive and disposed of that many perps. After some debate it was decided to be for the best for your career to continue despite loosing your primary weapon. Due to the injuries we both sustained yesterday they thought it best to give us both a brief leave of absence. I was on my way to my residence when I received a call that a unknown female judge in distress was being engaged by several unknown perps."

Only then did I realize he had retreated to the corner of the room, into the shadows. I could see his outline but everything else was a dark blur. Why is he hiding?

"When I saw it was you- I hesitated, my apologies Judge, but it seemed favourable to allow you to gain control of the situation." He was letting them kick the shit out of me just to see if I could win. **Gee, thanks.**

His disembodied voice grew dark and shallow like he wasn't talking to me. "But I saw you wouldn't gain control before they would-" he paused clearing his throat. "Anyway I stepped in."

"I was taking you to the Chief Fargo Memorial Hospital- but the council had other ideas. You see- part of the exception is-" He trailed off as if mulling over how to phrase what is happening. "They were impressed by how you conducted your self at Peach Tree's- so impressed they decided to put us both on indefinite tandem enforcement. This is a classified situation-"

"What?" Me and him. As in the best Judge in Mega City One and Two is being put with me. I must of misunderstood- they would never take such a respected man and put him with a rookie like me. **Tandem enforcement is rare and generally ends really badly kid- either they want him dead or you two kick ass. **Why would they want him dead? He's valuable.

"This a classified situation." He repeated patiently in a more conversational tone. **Well as conversational as Dredd got. **I moved on to my knees, wide-awake

"No- before that." Why would they put me with you? ME- a rookie who failed twice.

"They were impressed?" Impressed? I was just doing my job… what makes us special enough to risk Dredd's life?

"No! Indefinite tandem enforcement? As in now we work together. Indefinitely. Why?"

"Anderson- you should be thankful. They just saved your career." He was chastising me but he sounded different- unsure. Like his thoughts were wavering. "I know it must take some adjustment- but they seem to think one of the higher ranked Judge and a remarkably powerful psychic who can use a gun could be… effective." I was taken aback. He thought I didn't want to work with him? **Well you ran away crying and nearly got killed hours after last time you worked with him. So… not that far of an intellectual leap.**

"No-its not that- I'm. Thank you, sir. But I don't understand- I thought. Well tandem assignments don't normally… end well, sir. And your loss would be dangerous to the western Mega Cities."

"Don't call me Sir. We are going to have to be cohabiting- we will be on a semi-formal basis. Besides, Anderson, what makes you think this will end badly?"

With that he turned on his heal and walked out of the room.

* * *

_**Well my Peach Tree's, what do you think? What will Dredd do with his hands full of Anderson? What on earth will they be up to working together like that? Thats for me to know and for you to find out. I hope you like what you've read, because there is more to come. Much much more. **_

_**Give me time my darlings. Give me time. **_

_**I know many of you, if you are anything like my old readers, are clamoring for sex now. But thats just not how it works. Be patient. Give the lemons time to ripen. **_

_**Until then review, read, review, review, and most importantly review.**_


	2. But When We Start Making Fires

**_Hello Peach Tree's, Its Mama. I'm back and with more story for you. Go on read it. Its yours. From me to you. But remember, when your good to Mama, Mama's good to you. So you best review it my darlings. For now, enjoy. I hope the wait was worth your while. _**

* * *

It still amazes me what a few green and blue pills and eight hours of sleep can do. Rising from the twisted piles of sheet, I stretched my arms over my head, wincing at the tender flesh around my ribs. Twisting my arms in my face, I marvelled in the pale pink lines that once were deep gashes. The pills had all but cured my bullet wound, while very bruised, it appeared to have completely sealed over night. Even so, the remaining wounds would have benched a civilian for a week. But not a Judge.

A normal civilian would require therapy or at least encountered anxiety about what happened last night. Having men pin you down, cut and kick you, try and take you would crush most people. Training requires you to detach, as a Judge people will try and hurt you through rape, murder, or mutilation. Some times all of the above. It just depends on the attacker.

Training is not just about becoming physically stronger and faster then your opponent. It is not about learning to disregard pain, nor is it about learning how to make faster more fair solutions. While they are both important, the hardest part of training is letting go. Forgetting emotions and letting your personal safety and value go.

That is why there are so few Judges, because it is nearly impossible to stop caring. But if you can do it, if you truly accept yourself as a piece of the machine that is more then oneself, your body becomes an instrument of justice. A true Judge doesn't care who's name is on the causality count, including their own, as long as the attackers name is on the list as well.

Yet, somehow, despite the 'higher development' Judges maintain to be almost childlike in there confusion about the most basic things.

As I began to yawn and awaken, it occurred to me I had never had my own quarters before. I was born in a block that was classified as 60% slums, much like Peach Tree's. But it was where I learned to read and do long division, its where I made cookies with my mom and played with my dad. It was home. But I lost all that when they got sick. After that it was the academy.

I shared a hall with seven other girls, we each had our own shelve and bunk. But it wasn't home. We were not to form friendships; we were to be comrades, allies. It wasn't that we never laughed or smiled, we did, but never did we have the luxury of just laughing until we couldn't breathe. We always were aware of the ever-present supervisors and the need to be on our guard for surprise sim-combat. There was never a rebellious phase, no piercing my ears at a friends house, no 'surprise my hairs pink.' Always grey walls, concrete floors, and itchy sheets.

But now I have my own room- I could paint the walls, and no one could tell me it was wrong. My room. It sounded weird, but it was mine. All mine. A sizeable bed in corner, concrete walls, linoleum floor, one foggy window, and a wooded door, all mine.

My stomach rumbled loudly, making me critically aware I had been too nervous to eat before meeting with the Chief Judge yesterday. Was that really only yesterday? My hand was on the doorknob before I looked down and began to laugh. **That is not professional or acceptable. **

A large grey T-shirt fit me like a baggy dress read, ACADEMY in large red letters and a pair of sweat pants that were easily a foot too long on me. How did I get dressed in this?

**Don't be stupid Kid, he had to undress you to take care of your wounds. It wasn't like he would just put you in a bed with untreated wounds or he would leave you semi-nude after doctoring you. Your clothes did not survive the fight, look at your body from yesterday. He is being nice and is letting you wear his clothes. **

Oh god he saw me semi-nude after being beat up that badly? Blushing, I fumbled over my feet. Damn, I don't have any clothes. How am I supposed to live here without any of my stuff? How can I have my things returned to me so I'm not stuck in his clothing for the rest of our indefinite tandem enforcement? Maybe I can call someone from my division and have him or her drop by my stuff? No they are probably already on duty…

**Or you could ask Dredd…**

Not going to happen. I will walk to the academy before I ask him for another favour. I'm done being saved by him.

I opened the door out of my room hoping that he would not see me dressed like this. **He had already seen you dressed like this, what more harm could it do?** Still I tried to be silent in the way only Judges can, slinking out of my room, crossing my fingers for a brilliant plan to cross my mind. The main room was mostly bare. Four windowless walls, one with three doors leading to my room and the bathroom, and presumably Dredd's room as well. The wall to the left had a large punching bag hung in a corner next to a couch facing a wall. The rest of the room was taken up by a small kitchenette and a thick metal door.

**Well what now kid? Plan find clothes is out, your in top secret mode right now so no calling in the Calvary, and if you don't want to ask Dredd then look like your stuck. So suck up your damn pride and ask for- **

In my peripheral vision I noticed a large duffle bag sitting on the couch- I know it's considered rude to poke around, but in my defence it was three in the morning and I was wearing a pretty much a strangers clothes.

A large piece of paper sat on top of the bag, in a rough scratchy script read ROOKIE- YOU WILL NEED THESE.

Thank god! I don't have to ask him for something more. Its bad enough he had to treat my wounds (**twice**) and lend me his clothing. Now I can just make a routine and learn to live with him. I slung the bag over my shoulder and carried it to the door on the far left that lead to my room.

The drawers were predictably empty, making quick work of my already folded clothing. I didn't have much. Just three sports bras and underwear, three wife beaters and t-shirts, one standard issue uniform, two sets of standard issue exercise gear, and one set of civilian clothing. It didn't take long until I was folding up my bag and storing it under the drawers, just as I was pushing it away a piece of paper fell on to the ground…

_Anderson,_

_ Congratulations on becoming a Judge, I took the liberty of packing your things up. You have done well Anderson, I always suspected you would. I've heard rumours from upstairs that you worked or are working with Dredd. A piece of advice: he is a piece of work, you already know this, but he is not all that meets the eye. By himself he is feared and revered. You alone have a huge advantage in your mind. Together? The two of you may become the edge we need to take back the city. You will have to push yourself, Anderson, the Academy cannot teach you everything. Rules must be broken to enforce the law. You cannot let your sense of morality stop you from doing the right thing. From dispensing justice. You and Dredd match each other well; I don't know what the councils plan is for you, but trust me it is big. You have potential. Don't waste it. Be careful Anderson, you might make something of yourself. _

_-Director of Training, Senior Supervisor and Judge of the Father of Justice Academy_

_` Judge Wedbrough_

It was overwhelming, to be told by a woman I equally respected and feared I had potential. She spent the last ten years of my lift telling me how stupid and worthless I was- but now she says I might make something of my self? She thinks I'm going somewhere? Why is the last line so cryptic? Why did she warn me about being successful?

It was to confusing, too much to process sitting still. Without thinking about it I rose to my feet walking back to the main room while wrapping my hands in bandages before slipping on my gloves. Force of habit, I suppose, the need to keep moving keep practicing. Back at school you never just sit, there is always physical conditioning involved somehow. It helps me think.

Bouncing on the balls of my feet, my arms up protecting my face I began to hit. The punching bag at first remained still, a stoic sack of sand, teasing me into fighting harder, thinking faster. My mind raced trying to understand why Wedbroughknows so much, why she would care to send me a note. My fists were flying, sweat pouring off my body, my thoughts nearly tangible.

Time was irrelevant, it could have been ten minutes or hours, but I just kept hitting- like I could beat the answers out of an inanimate object. Exhausted my knuckles, cracked and bleeding, admitted defeat. The answer no clearer to me then before.

Walking back to my room to grab a towel and toilettes, I continued to relentlessly ponder why Judge Wedbrough would care. In school she treated me like everyone else. I wasn't even a blip on her radar, only noticing me when I messed up or said something that proved my mutant status.

Closing the bathroom door tightly behind me, I pulled the massive t-shirt over my head, folding it into a neat square next to my towel. In the cracked mirror my wounds from the day prior were nearly gone. The exit wound from the bullet was a light purple and rough to the touch, various cuts were just pink lines traversing my torso, and the flesh around my ribs slightly swollen and dark purple but not bad at all. My face had bits of dried blood on it, my hair a rats nest, but something was different beyond the dirty exterior. Maybe it was the tense set of my jaw, or the newly erect posture, but the girl I used to know in the mirror was gone. A woman, no, a Judge looking back.

**I don't know how or why Judge Wedbrough or Dredd thinks we're so special kid, but we are sure as hell going to do our best to prove them right. **

With my new found confidence I stripped down completely, stepping into the shower. It was like I radiated self assured control, almost happiness. As a Judge the 'after glow' is not something I am familiar with, but from being assaulted with the sweaty, smiling, content thoughts of various civilians, I felt like I was experiencing the next best thing. The water turned to a delightful freezing, I soaped up my body allowing blood and sweat to flow down the drain, along with the tension and anxiety, leaving just me. Just Anderson, comma, C.

I probably looked stupid- a shivering, smiling girl, giggling at nothing in particular while completely covered in bubbles. The water felt so good, waking me up and allowing me to process the events of the last two days. I could have stayed there forever, but a quick glance at my watch had me sprinting to rinse out my hair.

It probably should have occurred to me that Dredd might be awake by five thirty. If I had been paying attention I would know he was done working out for the morning. If I was actually thinking I would have made the intuitive leap to thinking he might want to shower.

But instead I was caught up in my little cocoon of pleasure, thinking I was ready for my day. I was leaning down to pick up my cloths, when I heard a stunned grunt.

I startled to a standing position, my body slamming into something large, hard, and warm. The figure towered over me, both of us in such a state of shock when one of us slipped that neither of us caught ourselves. Something reached around me, spinning us- we were falling, his hard warmth under me, my towel flying around me like a cape.

My fall was broken by his body, leaving my pride the only thing injured. His mouth was open, his face tinged red, his pulse elevated, breathing fast. Shit- did it hurt him. I instinctively went to stand and apologize, but an arm wrapped around my waist stopped me.

His eyes, shielded behind his visor met with mine in a burning connection, his fingers spread wide across my back. His pouty lips open in a gasp that got distracted along the way- I knew I should be getting up but I didn't want to. His face entranced me, the five o'clock shadow around his jaw, the stunned set of his lips, I could feel his eyes- but in that moment I wanted nothing more then to take of that helmet and run my fingers over his velvet skin and through his hair, just feeling that man behind the mask. My lips tingled with want; my skin feeling like it had become electrified with need to see- to understand.

"Anderson-" his voice sounded strangled and like it took effort to make a sound. That word broke me out of my haze. I stood quickly, my blush burning; I clutched the towel to my chest. Keeping my head down, I picked up my toilet trees in record time sprinting out of the room with a muttered 'sorry sir.'

I slammed my door behind me, double and triple checking the locks before stripping of the towel. I was breathing fast, my skin tingling with the contact. **What the fuck? **

This is bad- what the hell is going on. My skin was flushed everywhere, **you're just embarrassed. **A light coating of sweat over my breasts, **you were surprised. **My heart was pounding and my breathing fast, **you just fell… your body is reacting. **A deep aching throb from somewhere in my abdomen bloomed, the heat reaching and spiralling mind raced to justify my reaction, justify what my body was spelling out.

Quickly shoving on my standard issued uniform leggings and a wife beater I thrust my shit kickers on while beginning to pace. What do I say to him? Do I apologize? Or pretend it didn't happened? Would it be more or less weird to go sit on the couch? Or stay in my room? **Good job, you already made this intensely uncomfortable in less then four hours of being awake, gold star for you kid. **

Okay, I will go out side and sit on the couch. I can read. He will make the first move; I will just sit and read. He can say what ever he wants, if he is angry I'll apologize. We can make some ground rules. We can make sure this doesn't happen again.

With shaking hands I picked up "A Field Agents Guide: Conversing With Civilians," and made my way to the couch. **Breath in. **Sit down. **Breath out. **Cross legs under you. **Breath in. **Open book. **Breath out. **Scan the page. **Breath in.** Ignore the grunt from the bathroom. **Breath out. **Flip the page. **Breath in. **Ignore the shower turning off. **Breath out. **Ignore the sound of someone in the room. **Breath in. **Flip page. **Breath out. **Ignore that he is sitting down on the couch with you. **Breath in. **Nod like your contemplating the meaning of what the page said. **Breath out. **Flip page. **Breath in. **Ignore the frustrated sigh from next to me. **Breath out. **You can handle what ever he says.

"Rookie, we're going on a field trip." This should be interesting.

"Carla we ga'two de-cafe cwoffes an' a jelly an' a chwocolate dwounut at table fifteen!" A heavy woman carrying a large tray screeched at seemingly no one in particular. The diner Dredd dragged me to was over crowded, filled with sweaty truckers and exhausted whores. The red leather seats were torn and distressed, the table's covered in gum and grime, but he assured me the food was sanitary.

**This is sufficiently awkward. **We hadn't spoken a word since then. Both of us were staring at the table, me focusing on the tenth paper crane I'd made out of my napkin, Dredd scowling into space. **I would hate to be that wall right now, because I would be melting. **Even if I wasn't psychic it would be obvious there was tension crackling between us. Every now and then I would secretively glance up through my hair, staring at the masked face, trying to gain insight as to what the hell I'm supposed to say. **Just say something. Anything. Really.**

"Rookie-" he started

"Dredd-" I began at the same time. "Go ahead-"

"You first." We both said in sync. **If this wasn't so freaking weird that would be funny. But this is. Let him talk. Do not embarrass yourself again today. **He gestured with a passive hand wave for me to speak first. I could feel my blush building; all of a sudden my fingers were incredibly interesting. **Just say what your thinking.**

"I- umm- well I'm not really sure what to say." I admitted, my voice weak.

"Join the squad," he deadpanned, by the growl his voice I could tell he was in control of this conversation. I cleared my throat, willing my voice to take one the equally authoritative sound of a Judge.

"So... we are living together." **Please take over this conversation. **

"Yes." **Okay lets try again.**

"And this morning…" **Please take the bait, take over the conversation.**

"Indeed." **Damn. Third times the charm, third times the charm.**

"I fell on you."

"Yes you did." **Final shot, okay please don't make me continue with this. God? Allah? Buddha? Thor? Super Civilian?**

"While I was naked." His head cocked to the side, surprised I was so blunt. I swear his eyebrows rose, even if I couldn't see them. He muttered something under his breath I couldn't quite make out, but sounded a lot like 'props to you Rookie- guess I didn't imagine that.'

"Look- Anderson… this situation is-" His mouth was strained into a tight line looking for words before opening in an exasperated sigh. **"**Since we are living together, we are already bending the rules slightly, so we must walk this line very carefully." Dredd continued. **We are talking about work**, **we know this. We know how to do this. **

"Understandable. Once we are at a secure location, I'm assuming I will be briefed with this assignment."

"Yes, the council briefed me last night and the papers arrived this morning." We both paused, unsure what more to day. "Look, Anderson… this is uncomfortable for both of us. Perhaps some ground rules to prevent this from happening again?"

Only to make matters more awkward, a waitress from the other side of the room decided now was the best time to direct her detailed thoughts in the direction of our table. "_You can brief me anytime you want baby. Yeah, I bet your briefing would be hard and big, wouldn't it?_" **I hate telepathy. I hate telepathy. I hate telepathy**

"That sounds… favourable." Clearing my throat, I prayed I would sound like a Judge **not** like a scared teenager. "May I suggest knocking before entering?"

"Agreed." He turned thoughtful for a minute. "No entering each others quarters?"

'_You can enter my quarters anytime' _the waitresses thoughts in the back of the room interrupted, clearly straining to hear our conversation over the rumble of the morning rush.

"Uh- yes. Good."

A quick nod from Dredd gave me the confidence to continue. "On the note of rule making, this may sound obvious, but I suggest we avoid nudity." Dredd's jaw grew tense and his whole body froze.

"Yes Anderson. That would- that would be good."

"_Baby, cloths are a waste on you. Come on just finish that drink and I'll go see if there is anything I can do for you. Namely me. Oh please do me. God look at those lips, I just want to suck them all night, well those and some other parts of that fine specimens anatomy._"

"So- umm" I stammered, my face growing red. **Shit, can he tell what she's thinking? How would he react knowing people think of him in that way? Probably annoyed disbelief. Its really hot in here, god I need another shower.**

"_Maybe he will spank me. Oh yes, judge I plead guilty._"

"Next rule we should-" I really was trying to think, but pressure was building in my abdomen.

"_Imagine that. Him throwing me over a table and pounding his hips into my still red ass from his leather clad hands relentlessly slapping it. Him tugging my hair while pulling out just in time to shoot his load all over my back while I scream in release._"

"Can we leave?" I squirmed in my seat uncomfortably; **I don't want to hear this. **

"You're the psychic," standing he threw several credits onto the table before turning on his heal and storming out of the diner. I know I am the psychic, that would be the problem. I ran after him, easily jogging to his motorcycle. "Care to explain?" **Crap. That is the 'don't mess with me' voice. Damn it.**

"People's thoughts- well, there was this woman- and… and she was thinking," He resumed his tensed stance, his hand automatically reaching for his gun. "Not illegal things- well sort of but not the kind of illegal you- but." I stammered, begging him to understand. "she was thinking about you." His face was the picture of irritated confusion.

"Rookie please be specific." How is he always so calm? Swallowing my pride and the last hints of dignity I spat out.

"She was imagining very detailed sexual relations between herself and you."

"I see."

"Yeah."

We both shuffled our feet, unsure of what to do now. In school you get trained to handle everything. Hostage situations, survivor searches, drug busts, homicide, theft, war, near death experiences, near rape experiences, security, information retrieval, how to kill someone with your hands chained together and no weapons, how to talk a mentally unstable perp out of murder- but you never learn to talk about sex. Ever.

"Hop on." Dredd growled, gesturing at his motorcycle. With his back turned to me, the engine roared to life. **Just do it kid. **Reluctantly I wrapped my arms around his waist, all to aware of the similarities of this position to several more… creativeones I had just seen.

**Stop thinking about that, it's not professional. Let's be constructive, shall we? Do you even know where we are going?** Where would he be taking me? Maybe back to the apartment? But he seemed reluctant to be alone with me… not that I can blame him. This is not how I imagined today going.

What did he mean "'props to you Rookie- guess I didn't imagine that,'" why would he be imagining that? Guys don't imagine girls naked unless… no. That's not correct. It must be a manner of speaking. **There is not a snowballs chance in hell Dredd was thinking of me like **_**that. **_He definitely meant it as a joke or something-not like he wants something or me, Anderson the rookie.

Besides even if he was, usually girls think it back- but I'm not attracted to him. I mean sure after the whole bathroom incident my body reacted, but that was just because I was surprised.** Right?**

Judges don't have crushes, don't fall in love, let alone lust. It doesn't happen. In training its beaten out of you, whatever empathy and raw emotion left in your body is hidden away in a dark corner to afraid to resurface.

Judges can't care about anyone. Even if we still had the emotional ability- we wouldn't let ourselves. If we loved someone then our priorities and unbiased Judgement would be altered and make us prejudiced in favour of our friend or lover. We cant even have sex, not a kiss, not a single whisper full of want escape our lips while behind our eyes we imagine a day when we feel more then our own hand. Sex is primal sensation, an uncontrolled need. A Judge must be composed, thoughtful, decisive, unbiased, and completely in control to do what needs to be done.  
Back in school people called him a god- an emotionless, bad-ass, sex god. But he isn't emotionless- I would know; he hides it behind the mask and under scowl. He feels things but he ignores it- he seems to think them as useless. However they were definitely right about the bad-ass. Part of training is hearing about how inferior you are to all the 'real Judges,' very few of them measure up to Dredd.  
But sex god? How would the kids back at school know? I understand the god, but as Judges we have very little interaction with or understanding of anything that can be interpreted as sex related. Sure when your in school you look at each other and wonder what it would be like to… _you know touch them_, sometimes you both want to, but you never do.  
Training begins at seven, so its not as if you have time to become comfortable with your… changes. Relationships of romantic or sexual nature are strictly prohibited and are grounds for immediate dishonorable expulsion and five years in the Iso-cube for Obstruction of Justice. Even having sexual relations with yourself are grounds for indefinite suspension.  
Besides I don't even know what Dredd looks like. In all the pictures from the academy he was always in full uniform. I guess his strength and his confidence when he's fighting is kind of hot- and it's not like he looks bad in his uniform. But all I see is his scowl, the way he tries to control him self, his pretend contempt for everything, his confusion with what he feels and the way others react…  
Even in the **hypothetical situation** where I felt even a **twinge of anything** other then professional regard for Dredd, **or any one else** I would **ignore** it. **We will succeed. We will do what needs to be done to serve the city. **With that fresh in my mind, I tensed myself for the roaring motor, and I felt nothing but intrigue for the man behind the mask.

Back in our apartment with a taught jaw Dredd sternly walked to the kitchenette pulling the dishwasher open. His hands gently removed the trays, setting them aside on the floor. Perched on the balls of his feet he leaned into the machine. From my vantage point I could see the shadows of his fingers pulling at seemingly random wires.

"What are you-" was all I got out before he harshly shushed me. His leather-clad fingers glided over the machine like an instrument until from the deep recesses of the machine a small camera surfaced. "What is thi-"

"Patience, Anderson," came a growl from inside of the machine. A red light scanned the room, focusing on Dredds visor before flickering and turning off. It was slow; you might not even notice if you weren't looking for it but ever so stubbly a brick on the wall slid backwards and to the side until a small crack, just enough for a finger to slide through, opened. With a grunt Dredd stood, pulling off his gloves before shoving his middle finger into the wall.

Something strange happened in that moment. My breathing halted, my eyes focused singularly on the exposed skin, I don't think I even blinked in those seconds. The only part of his body I had ever seen was his chin and lips; everything else had always been hidden behind armour.

All of a sudden my eyes were ravenous, desperate to etch his pale olive skin stretched over long elegant digits into my memory, to not overlook the shadows flickering over his hand. Never had anything looked so delicate compared to the rest of his leather and armour clad body. Yet, at the same time never had anything looked so strong, so individually super-human in contrast to the robotic man it was attached to.

For a just a few precious moments, his wrist flicked to better access the fingerprint scanner and showed me something that made me gasp. A deep smooth shadow, creasing in a cross hatched pattern stood in contrast to an angry raised white scar. The battered flesh was obviously, not new, easily thirty years old, yet it still looked so raw. In time with his heart, the scar would pulse, undulating in a hypnotic dance.

Blinking rapidly, I tried to clear my eyes. How can his scar move? That is not possible unless it had punctured the artery and if the top had been sliced out. But if it punctured the artery that badly, he should be dead; he wouldn't have had the time to heal. No one could survive loosing that much blood with out immediate care. How would he even have gotten an injury like that? In the Atomic War he was in his late teens, he must have had it before then. He's always been strong, an outstanding fighter. How would anyone get that close to? He's untouchable.

It must have been someone he trusted enough to expose that delicate of skin too. Must have been someone from before training. When he was a child, naive enough to trust someone. **At some point, someone who was a comrade to Dredd, back when he was too unskilled to fight back, nearly killed him. **

Dredd's head turned momentarily, and looked me deep in the eyes. Neither of us breathed. He was exposing himself, whether he realised it or not. He was allowing me to see him with out all of his armour. And his scar- to show me he was human- showing me he too failed at one point.

Maybe I was reading into it too much but in that moment; but something changed. I could feel tears behind my eyes forming, I just wanted to take his hand and ask him why. Ask him how he is so strong, ask him who did it. In that moment I wanted nothing more then to take his wrist and kiss that scar, until it faded away into even unbroken skin.

I knew I was staring. I knew it was bad. I knew it was illegal. But I couldn't get past want. In that moment I wanted to give in. I wanted to be just Cassandra, not Anderson. In that moment the haze seemed to envelope us, our eyes locked through his helmet. I knew I was reaching for my glove, I knew I needed him to know. Know I trust him too. I exposed my skin just below my wrist, and pushed my sleeve up, until I knew my scar was showing. In big block letters, slashed through my forearm were the raised words that proclaimed me a freak. MUTANT. My vision blurred while the memory began to flood over me.

_Shrieks from a little girl looking for her parents. Rubbing alcohol. Saline. Steal. Beepers going wild. Flat lining. Running. The little girl sitting by herself in the waiting room. Sad faced doctors. The doctor's mouth was moving but the words didn't make sense. A voice that might have been my own screamed. _

_Big suitcases and caskets, 'Call Me Uncle Max,' taking me home. Smiles and toys- days go by. Leave me be 'Call Me Uncle Max,' I am a big girl I can go potty by myself. Sneers and empty bottles, don't hurt me 'Call Me Uncle Max.' Thoughts that are not my own hitting me over the head. Don't to touch me like that 'Call Me Uncle Max!' Realizing, disgusted roaring 'freak!' Shiny steal and pain, carving and screaming. Stop 'Call Me Uncle Max.' Little hands reaching and hitting 'Call Me Uncle Max' to the floor. Snapping sounds. 'Call Me Uncle Max' doesn't move anymore. Grabbing my arm, running, getting dizzy, too much blood on the ground. Curling up in an alley. Crying for mommy. _

_Doctors waking me up, telling me I'm lucky I was found when I was. The lonely orphanarium, sad stories, where's my Daddy? Can we keep her? Freak. Kill her. Kick her out. A dark figure telling them to overlook my status. Retake on a failed test. Second chance. _

"Anderson-" someone whispers, the voice loaded with thought. I raised my watering eyes.

"Dredd…" I trail off. Both of us latched onto the scars that pushed us beyond our limits.

Not a word more was said. Nothing needed to be. We understood. We both were wronged. Nothing can make us forget what happened. But nothing can stop us from trying to fix it.

The heavy energy of respect buzzed thickly in the air. The mutual need became clear to the both of us. We both need to fix this. End this.

Bricks slid backwards and to the left, exposing a door from the wall he had scanned his hand on, opening just enough to allow us through. The newly exposed room was sterile and white, with no obvious signs of use. Two chairs and a confusing looking set of control panels faced a wall completely covered in monitors. In the adjacent corner sat two sleep machines and a dispenser of pill-form food.

I could feel his thoughts flickering, no matter how hard I tried to keep his privacy. It was obvious, his indecision, say something and acknowledge this or shut down. Take a risk or stay safe. Stay robotic.

"This will be our emergency shelter. The password for entry is in the briefing packet, along with a mandatory eye scan and DNA verification. This room is completely undetectable and virtually indestructible." His jaw was tense, trying to focus enough to take control, trying to move beyond what ever he was thinking. Sitting down at one of the chairs, I looked up at the shrouded eyes willing him to stay open.

I couldn't shake the irony, the two of us sitting in a bomb shelter-command centre that was supposed to keep us intact while it was really we, destroying each other in our own naiveté, were the risk. But this doesn't have to be this way, Dredd. We can be more then Allies. We can be comrades. I will not harm you.

"The council, is as I said, impressed by your actions in Peach Trees, both in the recovery of your weapon, and fast decision making. They are also, obviously impressed by your mental advantage." I wonder if tensing your jaw that hard hurts... Relax for just a minute Dredd. We don't need to be like this**.** "I have a impressive track record, and I am classified as highly effective in the means dispensing Justice. The council has decided that the combination of our skills would be beneficial to the city." His usual growl sounded tired, almost unsure if that's possible. Unsure if this battle can be won. Sitting down he continued,

"With Ma-Ma's death and the termination of her clan, there will be a struggle in Peach Tree's for control. It is our job to make sure it stays in our control. There is only one way to do that. We identify the forming gangs and hit it hard from the inside."

"This room connects to Peachtree's through a tunnel under the floor." Pointing to a tile, "If you put in the code, you will find it in your briefing packet, it will lift and expose a ladder down into a unused sewage system that goes under sector thirteen. Your GPS will be able to get you under the correct building. A service elevator 'broken' in the fight will take you up to an apartment that is listed in our aliases." Slapping a paper down in front of me he stood and began to pace while I flipped through the pages.

"Why don't the PSU handle this?" They specialize in undercover missions and intelligence recovery; I don't think I had ever heard of Judges going under cover like this.

"Because you can read minds and the council voted on this course of action." His voice had a distinct unexpected tone of annoyance to it that made wonder if even he knew why we were put in charge of this mission. I squared my jaw and looked him in the eyes, refusing to be talked down to.

"Proceed." It doesn't have to be like this Dredd. We are not so different. You don't need to act like you know everything; I can hear that you don't. I can feel your confusion and anger.

His scrunched face relaxed quickly. Whether from surprise of my curtness or from knowing there was another option, I couldn't tell you. His scowl disappeared and melted into neutrality. But just a quickly as I thought he might actually be human, he shut back down into impatience and anger.

"Just read the damned papers Anderson." His voice was angry, with me or the council I couldn't tell. But judging by his silence story time was over, and not wanting to push my luck, I flipped through the pages.

Felicia Brown: originally from Mega City Two. Recently graduating with a degree in children's education, currently unemployed. Felicia Brown has two siblings both several years older. Joy Hawkson-Brown is married with three kids. Timothy Brown Junior enlisted as soon as he was old enough to join the military, was reported MIA after the initial attack of Apocalypse War and was confirmed KIA several weeks later.

Alexander Fishmen: originally from Mega City Two. Graduated with a degree in Computer Science several years ago when he me Felicia Brown. They became roommates out of financial necessity, moving to Mega City One hoping to find work. Alexander just obtained a job working for the IT department at an independent publishing company.

There were no windows in the sterile room, no clocks either, so the concept of time seemed foreign. I flipped through page after page, topic after topic. At around page one hundred I yawned. **Be a big kid, you've just finished the Blueprint Analysis. You still have all the detailing to read. **

One hundred pages later I came to the conclusion that who ever wrote this was obsessive compulsive. They covered everything from my first pet, (a guard dog named Rodney) to my nicknames for my siblings, (Jo and Tim the Sequel) to my favourite colour in seventh grade (purple.)

At page two hundred and fifty my eyes began to droop. **Stay awake. You cannot go to sleep until you have this memorized. **

At page three hundred and seventy the letters blurred in ink splotches moving across the page. **Come on, only another sixty pages. Just the Threat Assessments… **

I groaned against the bright light filtering into the room through a dirty window. **Ugh, what time is it? **A dull ache in my neck began to complain loudly at the angle my body had knotted its self into. **Just one day out from graduating kid and your already getting soft. **

With a loud moan I rose to a sitting position, stretching my arms far above my head, letting my feat fall to the floor from the couch. **Why are we on the couch? **I must have fallen asleep in the shelter, and somehow gotten out here.** Dredd's going to be pissed. **Did I sleep walk?

Oh god, did he carry me? **Jesus, so much for not embarrassing yourself.** Not only did he get to see me in very compromising states of undress, have me be a huge liability in the field, almost get killed in my free time, but I fall asleep while doing homework so you can carry me off to bed like a baby too! **Aren't we just special?**

And here I was thinking we were so similar and relatable. Thinking that we could be friends or something. How the hell can he befriend lets alone respect someone who cant even get briefed with out passing out. **That's fucking humiliating kid.**

Maybe, if I hurry, I can finish reading and work out before he wakes up. That way when he eats I will be in the shower and we wont talk until after he's done showering. **Wow and now you nervous about seeing him? Very mature. **

I rolled my eyes at myself, hoping my usual morning routine would clear my head. To blue pills and a yellow one for breakfast, a wife beater and leather gloves for my date with a punching bag.

Bam! I let my fists fly, watching the bag undulate. How am I supposed to be Felicia? ** One hundred rapid-fire hits**. I've never been to Mega City Two. **Jog in place,**. I my supposed to want to open my own kindergarten but the only kids I remember being around were future Judges. **Push yourself harder damn it. **Some reformed party girl with a soft spot for light beer and hard drugs. **Sprint!** I've never been to party or had caffeine, let alone _slow-mo_. **Drop and give me two hundred.** How am I supposed to act around some one who is my best friend? What do you even do with a best friend? **Four hundred-sit ups newbie. **Fucking hell, by transitive property Dredd is my new best friend.

**This will be interesting wont it kiddo?**

* * *

_**Well my doves what do you think? You better tell me if you want more. The more you say the more I write. The more I write the sooner I update. **_

_**So tell me my Peach Tree's who hurt our angst filled Dredd? Who saved our lovely optimistic Anderson? **_

_**That is for me to know and you to find out. **_


	3. Whether We Like It Or Not

**Mama didn't like this chapter very much. Mama had to do a lot of work on it. You had best appreciate it my Peach Tree's. Mama might have taken a break, but oh she never leaves.**

* * *

"Miss Brown? Nico will see you now." Called a thin artificially blond woman from the glass door. Keeping my head down and face obscured my hair and puffy scarves; I headed over to the private section of the salon. Even though Dredd and the SJS debriefing packet assured me that Nico was to be trusted and was the top of the line for identity change, I couldn't help but to double check my knife was still in place.

"Wine Miss Brown? We have champagne and chardonnay. Or perhaps some coffee?" asked the same woman in an icy voice, her thoughts clear to every one in the room, as to what such a poorly dressed girl was doing to see _the_ Nico.

"I'm fine thank you." I said, trying to get the lady to leave me alone, disliking the way her eyes were scanning my body and tsking over my clothing.

"If you insist. Now here is your robe, take off everything else, put it on and leave you belongings on this shelf. Nico will be right with you, have a seat here." _God this is such a waste of time; even Nico can't save a girl like that. Shame really, she might even of been pretty. _**Do not punch her Anderson. Violence does not cure stupidity.** Sitting on my hands and biting my tongue, I smiled sweetly back at her while mentally listing all the ways I could kill her without standing.

I was just finishing folding my clothes and had reached number thirty four (kick her in the knees until she fell then press on her jugular for a while) when a short man burst into the room. He was wearing red leather pants, an expensive looking button up shirt, and boots worth more then most people make in a year. His black hair was gelled back and tossed, giving him an air of youthful gayety.

"My Name is Nico, I suppose you would be Miss Felicia," he said with an exaggerated wink. "Now I have worked with the Hall of Justice before, and the SJS, and all that jazz but lord, we never get the pretty ones." With a giggle wave of his hands I was surrounded by several women shrouded in face masks and smocks, armed with brushes, scissors, and tubes full of god knows what.

"I say thank goodness for that change! Sweet heart, relax over here and we will get started." To say I was nervous would be an understatement, **Anderson you have nearly died twice in the last two days and your scared of a little makeup? **But not wanting to seem cowardly, I slinked over to the table.

I closed my eyes and waited for whatever pain they would inflict on me, what ever it would take to be Felicia. But none came. Small hands were on my feat, massaging and applying some gel. More hands were on my face smearing goo all the while chattering about how I have 'like totes the best skin ever.' Another person was doing something cold to my fingernails, while yet another rubbed my scalp. **Damn, I could get used to this. **I was about to drift off to sleep when out of know where my robe was being removed. Jolting to a sitting position, I felt a variety of liquids and oils smear down my body while I grabbed at the fabric trying to regain my modesty.

"Felicia we have orders to do a full makeover. Not a partial one. I know this is uncomfortable, but trust me we've seen it all before." Nodding slowly, I allowed the girls to push me back to a reclining position. **Relax Anderson, they are doing their job. **Breathing slowly through my nose, I allowed them to push open my robe. A heavy blush lit my cheeks as my whole body was exposed.

"Darling, you are a natural teenager so we don't need to tuck or tighten anything, we are however going to make you more like less like a girl and more like a woman."

**Don't freak out. Breath normally kid. Ignore the warm sticky stuff on your stomach and genitalia. Don't think. Breath in. This is there job. Breath out. See they are already moving on, there covering you back up with paper. Your fine. ** Thank god, I am never going to a salon again. Have strangers seeing my genitals- not exactly my idea of a good peace of mind only lasted a minute, because seconds later hands were on the paper ripping it off.

"Fucking hell!" I screamed. I resisted the urge to cover my self with my hands- but only just barely. A few tears escaped my eyes as they ripped out whatever was left of my pubic hair.

"Sorry Darling, its better if you don't have time to be worried about it." With a giggle Nico was back to work. More hands over my legs and face worked to pull out all of my excess hair, more scrubs rubbing everywhere.

**Stop crying Kid. If Dredd can be shot and he barley reacts you can handle a bikini wax. **But Dredd has more practice, he puts up with a lot. Not just the physical pain from being a Judge, but all the things that comes with it. He can kill someone with out looking like he cares, how can he do that? I could barley kill Kathy's husband. **Its like he can just stop being human.**

I cant do that, that's why I have so much potential to be a piss poor Judge. I can feel, back in school I always thought it was because I hear what every one thinks. Its hard to detach when you here everyone subconsciously begging you to stay with them. But now, I think its because I was born feeling. I had parents; I was loved, even if it was just for a few years. That's more then Dredd ever had.

He doesn't even have parents. He's a clone, he's another Judge Fargo, but he's still human. Or was born human. He obviously trusted someone at some point; he allowed them to be close to him. Felt comfortable with them having a knife near him. Allowed contact, and didn't think it strange to be touched in a place so delicate as the inside of his wrist.

No matter how old you are, if you are going to grow up to be a Judge you are hyper aware of who's near you and what there doing. You never just get to sit in a crowd; you never just get to let someone trace patterns on your back while you sleep. You always are aware of what there doing and if it poses a threat. Most Judges just avoid human contact all together.

It's easier that way. Fight and fill your self with distrusting rage until all the perps are dead. Fight your way home to take off the gear that keeps you alive. Fight to keep the deep end out of your head. Fight your memories until exhaustion takes over. Fight your needs so you can live another day.

But in those moment when you're totally alone, safe, you can breath. For once.

I know my parents hugged and kissed me; they held me and played with me. I was safe there, I allowed myself to relax. They could have had a knife or touched my neck and wrists with out fear.

Some one must have taken care of Dredd, clones have their own living quarters before entering the academy if they are qualified. Back when he was first removed from the labs, a friend or a caretaker must have hurt him like that.

Who would he have trusted? The nurses and caretaker, and maybe a roommate? If your that young, your room mates must be like siblings. Siblings…

**Oh god, it couldn't be… no Dredd trusts him. Or did until a few years ago. No, it can't be.**

"Darling! Sit up its time to get you dressed, you my dear are going to look fab-u-lous!"

I was miles away, trying to prove myself wrong. The rapid yammering went right over my head, only picking up on the occasional snippet.

"Woo-hoo darling! The girls glad to be out of a sports bra!"

"You're a teacher right? Something more conservative for work."

"We need something for clubbing! Size four."

"Definitely more lace. In the leopard or zebra print?"

"Lets get some heals on this girl!"

Robotically I pulled on outfit after outfit, accessory after accessory, shoe after pair of shoe. Until finally I was steered to a chair where my hair was seeped in a brown gel. I closed my eyes, unsure if I was dreaming, **how could it be? You have to be wrong. **

Powder and blush streaked onto my face, eyeliner rimmed my waterline, contacts inserted, and lipstick and liner traced my pursed lips. It may have taken an hour at most to put all the extensions in my hair, but it seemed to last an eternity. My mind was just an endless cycle of the same pattern. **You must be wrong Anderson… he couldn't have… but whom else could it be… he's never let anyone else in… **

"You are ready darling! One, two, three!" the chair I was sitting in began to spin. The rapid motion pulled me out of my head, from one state of shock to another. **Who is that?** Standing hesitantly, I looked at the stranger in the mirror. She had long brown hair in a waterfall on her back. Her bright blue eyes sparkled under the soft light, brown and purple eye shadow giving her a look of feminine elegance. Strong cheekbones accented her soft jaw, featuring lush pink lips.

The girl in the mirror looked so pretty, so simply feminine, even though everything from her lace-up shoes to the dark low-rise skinny jeans was obviously well worn. Contrasting her relaxed pants and shoes, her pretty dark blue shirt flowed delicately around her curves, hugging her breast in a way that was alluring with out being sleazy. For warmth an oversized soft brown sweater wrapped around her, the sleeves ending just past her wrists, the main hem ending just under her bum.

If I didn't know better, I wouldn't know it was me. My face hadn't changed that much, they had obviously done contouring or something to make my cheekbones more defined and my jaw more gentle- the makeup and new hair made me look grown-up and womanly. I looked even paler with the new hair colour, making my reflection deviate even more from the girl I remembered.

"Now sweetie, I know you don't know much about makeup so here is a guide to applying this look along with other ones more suitable for parties, job interviews, and dates. We have outfits laid out for every occasion possible and lots of variations. It being packed up right now and will be loaded into your moving van along with your little friend's new clothes. M'kay darling? Just so you know you're exiting through the back door and meeting Alexander there. Good luck Felicia!"

"Thanks..." I smiled, and began to walk out the exit he had gestured too, feeling unusually aware of the way my body moved. The new jeans were surprisingly flexible; I would be able to fight in them, **which was probably the plan. **The sweater would get in my way, but it could hide all sorts of gadgets and weapons, **besides you can always discard it if you need to. **I suppose the shoes are flexible, the traction is terrible. **We can fix that with a little tape and a knife. **

I was not really paying attention; I was so caught up in my new body. As a Judge, especially a Judge in disguise, I should have been aware of my surroundings. Yet somehow I still ran face first into a tall man.

"I am so sorry! I just wasn't watching where I am going." I yelped, blushing furiously starring at my feat.

"Watch- no problem, civ- Ma'am." I know that voice…. Dredd?

"Alexander?" I stammered, unsure if this was Judge Dredd playing the man I now live with.

"Felicia?" He responded, equally shocked.

My eyes flickered up his body. Well-worn black and white sneakers, poking out of dark jeans that hugged his legs just so. A leather belt stuck out of his tight white shirt; show casing his remarkable muscles, hidden slightly by a thick leather jacket. His thick neck poked out of the unbuttoned collar, showcasing that delicate skin with stubble growing around his chin. Short facial hair masking his jaw and upper lip, a bandana stylishly concealing his nose, jaw, and cheekbones, dark tinted glasses hiding his eyes, and a wide brimmed hat obscuring everything else.

"Impressive, even in disguise I still have no idea what you look like," I muttered to myself. **How is that even possible? **I know it is rude to stare but I couldn't help it, I was curious. His bulging pectorals, so well defined leading into the rough contoured landscape of his abdomen captured my attention, making my heart race. My eyes kept latching to a new part of him. **Your just trying to memorize what he looks like in disguise….**

Subconsciously I had been trying to respect Dredd's privacy, but in moments of shock its hard to remember to guard your mind. I suppose it slipped then, it's hard to know. There was no way to stop the wave of his mind once it began to crest into mine. His eyes were tracing my shape focusing on my eyes, my clavicle, and every single detail. The first time I met Dredd, his mind felt like control and anger, but now all I sensed was need and fear. Chaos and confusion was bubbling in his stomach; I could feel him trying to derail his feelings in favour of control.

But he couldn't quite do it; unwillingly his eyes began to trace the wrinkling of my shirt. His eyes flickered upwards tracing the shadows of my breast, memorizing the crease of my cleavage, the swell of my curves. The deep growl in his mind echoes in to mine until his thoughts were playing in front of me, clearly as if he had screamed them. _Jesus, this wrong. Fuck look at her. Dredd Stop! How can I stop- don't do this Dredd. God she's- _

His thoughts were a train wreck of fragmented phrases, making little or no sense. _Too much. _I couldn't agree more, my face felt to hot, my heart to fast. _To __fervid__._ My body seemed to be fallowing the directions of his thoughts. Pressure was building in my stomach; a lurching sensation somewhere deep within me started a pleasurable shiver up my spine. _Too tight. _What's too tight?

My eyes flickered down from his neck to the siren call of his abdomen, and lower. **Kiddo- this literality breaks almost every single rule of tandem enforcement. ** His dark jeans hugged his bottom and had extra cloth at the crotch. Or they had… **Does mean his pants are too tight? What does that have to do with anything? **The zipper twitched, pressing outward, like something inside was trying to escape. _Too tight. _

**Is that what I think it is? **Oh god… that is Dredd's thing. His… penis. He- it's up… his penis is up… is erect. His penis is erect. As is he has an erection. Like Judge Dredd currently has an erection.

A brief flicker of nervous energy made me shiver again. I could hear my breaths coming loud and rapid. I swear to god my face must have been twitching from the pressure of my blood pounding as fast as it was. My eyes lifted to his shadowy face, staring into the place his eyes should be.

I couldn't see them, but I could feel his eyes staring back at me with the same want, the same momentary need. I swear, if I could see them, his eyes would be just as black and out of control as mine. All I wanted was to close the gap between up, the foot or two that kept me from taking him in my arms. I just wanted to hold him, press my chest against his and take his hand and intertwine our fingers, to have his hands knot in my hair and slowly press his lips-

"Mister Fishmen and Miss Brown? Your car is ready." A voice in the distance called. It was like a slap in the face, all of a sudden the magic was gone. Blushing and stammering, the jolts of unexpected pleasure receded to pulsing pain. **Get your self together Anderson.** It took all of my will power to tear my eyes away from Dredd in that moment.

"Thank you sir," I said shocked by how controlled my voice sounded. With shaking legs I climbed into the drivers seat. God this is uncomfortable, I think I must have just got my period or something. This actually hurts, and my underwear is definitely wet. Shit. **Bad timing much Mother Nature?**

With a loud sigh Dredd heaved himself into his seat. I would have expected him to say something, to reprimand me for what just happened. But he didn't, he just reached over and plugged an address into the GPS. Leaning back in his chair he scrubbed his face before slapping his thighs in frustration.

"Are you alright?" I was genuinely worried. He looked ill, his face was flushed and his expression pained.

"I'm fine. Just drive the fucking car Felicia." He practicality yelled. I have seen Dredd angry, I have seen him scared, I have seen him confused, but I had never seen him like this. Rather then extract an answer from him; I let the last vibrations of his anger echo throughout the car as I drove away.

**What just happened?** We hadn't done anything wrong technically; we just looked at each other. **You know it was more then that. **Both our bodies had reacted, but that happens sometimes.

**Why does he have to act like this? **It was stupid and immature, but somehow I found myself swallowing back tears. It's not like I am that ugly, people say I'm pretty and I think I look nice after my makeover. **Don't be stupid Anderson you know its not that. **What is it then? Am I so incompetent and annoying he can handle getting a boner the first time I show some cleavage? Is that it? Am I so fucking unappealing that if he accidentally becomes aroused he's so disgusted with himself that he can speak to me?

**If that's how you're going to be Dredd just watch me beat you at your own game. **We didn't speak again until we reached the towering complex of Peachtree's. I parked the car in the lot under ground, looking to Dredd for direction. He said nothing. Ignoring the deep pulsing, I stood slamming the door behind me. In the back the van were boxes of our things the SJS had given us that were supposed to be from our old apartment in Mega City Two and all of our new clothing.

By the time I had unloaded the car, Dredd was standing beside me with a dolly to bring our things to our apartment. He still had on his 'don't talk to me or I will strangle you with your own intestines' attitude, so we loaded the boxes up in silence. We didn't have much, just enough to make it up to our apartment in one very over filled run.

It was weird to be back in Peachtree's; I kept expecting to be shot at or to kill someone. The elevator ride was long, all the way up to level twenty-five. Along the way people would get on and get off, the doors would open and show the extent of the damage to the building from the fire fight last week. Missing person signs were everywhere, lists of those confirmed dead posted on every floor. I couldn't help but feel guilty, while many of Upon arrival, with my free hand I unlocked the door with another key on the ring from the car, ready to get some space from Dredd.

I took the boxes labelled "Felicia's Room," and stalked to the first bedroom I saw. Another wave of uncomfortable swelling hit me, causing me to fall back against the bed. Staring through my fingers, my light yellow room was pretty, with white lace curtains that matched the bed. I just wanted to curl up with the lights off until the pain went away and Dredd stopped acting like this. **No wallowing until your done unpacking Kid. **

With a grunt I stood, pulling open all my boxes. I quickly filled the books away into the shelves over the bed. Self-adhesive hooks attached to frame pictures of my family and graduation as well as other collage moments quickly found places over my bed and around my desk. **SJS, I underestimated you, not only did you furnish our apartment you make some convincing fake pictures. **A few stuffed animals and extra blankets quickly were stored under my bed. A box of seemingly useless junk that was labelled 'sentimental chick things,' I tried to artfully place around the room.

I headed back out to the main room, which combined a small ugly green couch and cheap T.V. with the smallest kitchen imaginable. I thought I would offer to help Dredd with the main room, but it would appear he already finished hanging pictures and laying out blankets and magazines. Books were put away and more of those useless knickknacks were laid out.

Another wave of discomfort spread over my uterus. **You should go take care of that Anderson. **Out of the box labelled 'toiletries' Dredd placed in here, I found a tampon and some Aleve. I had expected to find my period staining my new lacy underwear, but instead all I found was a thick coating of a clear gel.

Back in school we didn't learn about that kind of thing… but even with my limited understand I could put two and two together. This is really distracting, how do Judges deal with this? **Easy Kid, they don't get aroused. **But how do they avoid it? It must happen to people accidentally sometimes, right? I stood and began to wash the makeup off my face, hoping to clear my mind and focus.

I have to think… what am I supposed to do? I can't keep feeling like this because when it doesn't hurt it you know feels … nice. **And that's distracting to! **

I was about to go hide in my room when I saw him. Dredd was standing in front of the kitchen sink, working on his last box with his back to me. His whole body was tense, everything about him looked uncomfortable. He needed relief of some sort; I wish I could help him. If only you knew how badly I needed relief too.

Fuck I cannot afford to be thinking like this.

"I'm going back Alex." With that I stalked to the closet by the door, kicking out the false backing, I scanned my hand and eyes praying Dredd wouldn't be behind me. But of course, he was.

"Did you consider… talking to me first?" he hissed.

"No, Alexander, I did not."

"Well I would ask you in the future to be…. More considerate of my… needs."

"My sincerest apologise." I almost laughed at Dredd trying to be casual, but I was in far too much pain, far to pissed off, to consider joking.

The two of us marched in silence through the sewage system. While seemingly over kill, I had to admit there were advantages to this. With this system we could appear to be in our apartment while really restocking on weapons or escaping.

It was only a five-minute walk, and it wasn't as if either of us was trying to go fast. Something about the small dark space was comforting, making the tense energy between Dredd and me slightly less stifling.

From the corner of my eye I could see Dredd proudly walking, his body tensed to attack. Every now and then I would see his hand grasp his wrist and slide over the scar, almost reminding himself that he was still pulsing. I could see him hunched and ready to leap upon any possible target, just in case. Even for Dredd it was unusually aware of his surrounding. **Bizarre, coincidence perhaps?**

Before I had much time to contemplate his behaviour, another wave of discomfort surged through me. I couldn't help the groan that escaped my lips or making fists by my sides.

"Felicia, are you alright?" sounding almost concerned, Dredd took a side step towards me. What the hell? I show weakness and he's nice, but when I do my job he gets pissed. And if I show the wrong weakness he gets even more irritated.

"Fan-fucking-tastic." I ground out between my teeth before climbing up the wall, angrily leaving Dredd behind me. I knew he was confused, but I didn't give a damn. If he wanted to pretend to care then treat me like a child, then he could go screw himself.

With a grunt I pushed the ceiling tile out of the way, pulling my way up into the bomb shelter. I didn't even stop to pull him up, I just kept marching back through the scans and back into the kitchen.

I didn't stop to make sure he made it back our real apartment. I didn't care. I simply walked to my room, closing the door behind me. There has to be a way to fix this. Not just the physical issues, but I can't care about Dredd like that.

I can't let him hurt me, I can't care this much. I began to pace. What happened today cannot happen again. I cannot forget what we are doing. We are here to end a gang war before it begins. From now on I wont look at Dredd like that, I wont look at him at all if I can help it. I know I have to call him Alexander, but I will still be formal as possible given the circumstances.

But that doesn't stop me from wanting to cry over him! It doesn't stop me from looking at him and wishing it was different. It doesn't stop me from pacing around my room trying to cope with it.

"Fucking focus!" I yelled at my self, punching a cement wall in frustration. **Obviously you cant come up with a plan while you are this tense you need to relax. **Normal people get aroused, what do they do? **Well Rookie, they have sex. Even you should know that. **But they don't always have a person to you know…. Fornicate with. What do they do then? **I don't know Rookie. **

I ripped off my cloths frustrated and in pain. I threw my new clothes towards my bureau, my shoes flying behind them. I was too upset to find pyjamas so I settled with sleeping in nothing but my traitorous underwear.

Throwing my self down face first on the bed, I let out a silent angry scream into the pillows. **Why must we live with the only person who can do this to us? **I rolled on my back glaring at my body for reacting like this. **What is so different that tonight you cant control yourself? **My legs and arms were hairless and smooth from the treatments, but nothing truly different. My nails were artificially longer, but that didn't make me feel weird. Even my skin was softer and lighter, but that had no real effect on me.

But my breasts were abnormally pink and not their normal obnoxious circles hanging and in the way. In stead they were teardrops with hardened peaks. **What the hell?** I reached down anxiously feeling the temperature of them, knowing that sometimes if I was cold they would change shape.

My breast was not cold, as I had assumed, but hot to the touch. A hand across my forehead proclaimed I did not have a fever, leaving me more confused. Subconsciously I tightened my hand around my breast in frustration, not aware or expecting the reaction it would bring.

A startled moan left my lips, the touch soothing the fires burn but making the flames more incessant. Unsure of what had just happened, my fingers instinctively curled, stroking the side of my breast causing a shiver to run down my back. Confused, I used my second hand to run a palm around my left breast silently rejoicing in the feeling of relief it brought. My hands were sliding up and down the velvet skin, making small circles when one of my fingers accidentally brushed against my nipple. A hiss left my lips as my hips bucked with out me telling them to.

**Rookie! What are you doing? This is illegal for you. Stop!**

Fear struck me for a minute, to be this out of control was dangerous. But the feeling was too powerful, to wonderful for me to stop. Carefully I traced the dark ring around my nipple, stifling my gasps against my pillow. With two fingers I brushed up to the tip of the peak, applying the smallest amount of pressure. Oh dear lord!

My hands continued to roam my breasts, slowly kneading and tracing small circles, lightly pinching and delicately rolling the tips. I could feel my heart racing and my blood surging, while the touch relived some of the pain it made my need worse at the same time.

The space in-between my legs was tingling and pulsing begging for something. My inner thighs rubbed against each other, feeling damper by the second. **Rookie- this is making it worse; stop! **

I was desperate for relief, and necessity is the mother of invention. One of my hands nervously traces the area from the base of my breast to my navel. Back and forth, over and over it went, until my hand gained the courage to trace patterns on my inner thigh. **Don't do it.**

I moved my hand over to my pulsing centre praying it would help. A finger single began to trace the sodden lips, Jesus! My back arched and I moaned at the touch. Never in my life had I felt anything like this before. There has been pleasure from passing a mission, or setting a new personal record, or massage trains my roommates and I occasionally did. But nothing remotely like this.

My hand continued to stroke my breast, as my finger grew bolder. It snaked up wards towards a particularly tingly part of my vagina. A small protruding bundle of nerves sat at the top, twitching and begging for attention. Gently I touched it, completely unprepared for my reaction. My hips bucked, my face contorted, my legs seized. I was completely moved by instinct in that moment.

My remaining hand slid down to my wet lips, stroking over them once, twice, then three times before gingerly pressing one finger inside the slippery skin. The finger worked its way deeper and deeper, knuckle by knuckle; a twinge of uncomfortable stretching was replaced gradually by pleasure. **Cassandra Anderson you stop right this instant!**

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, my breathing totally out of control. The other hand pressed its self against the bundle of pleasure and was slowly rubbing in a circle. Every time my fingers flicked back over it, a small contraction would start, squeezing the finger in me, making my back arch just off the bed, and make me pant even harder. Wave after wave of pleasure promise to make me fly. **Cassandra, are you crazy? This is illegal you could loose everything!**

I was close to something I could tell. The waves were closer together, the feeling stronger. A second finger worked its way inside, the two now curling in unison over a toe curling-ly wonderful spot, the feeling of pure bliss to radiate through my body.

"Fuck!" I grunted, trying to keep quite. I was so close, I could tell. I was standing on the edge, leaning over, about to fly. My hands were moving as fast as possible, the waves of toe-clenching, back-arching, mouth-flopping, legs-spasming pleasure now constantly filling my entire body. My hands couldn't move any faster; I knew I needed something to push me.

**DON'T YOU DARE! **I knew it was wrong, but not matter how hard I tried the thought of Dredd staring at me, his strong chest bare, with the look from earlier today painted on his face kept coming to mind. In my head, imaginary Dredd moaned my name; his back muscles rippling in time with the pulsing rhythm hand around his throbbing-

"Dredd!" I whisper shouted as the waves of pleasure took me. My entire body froze as the wave crested and broke. In those fifteen seconds, I held my breath and my legs curled in on them selves. My eyes were as big as saucers, my back arched so hard I was barley touching the bed. Wetness flooded my hand as my inner muscles seized uncontrollably.

My breath was fast and hitched, my heart slowing but still flying. All of my muscles were relaxed to a new level, I felt as if I might melt. I would have giggled if the process of making those muscles work didn't seem so difficult.

**How are you going to be focused? How are you doing to be restrained? What are you doing to do now? **

I was so sleepy, so content. Frankly I could not make myself give a damn. All I could do was roll over and nestle into my blankets. That night I fell asleep with a grin on my face.

That night I dreamed I was Jell-O. A huge, undulating, unnaturally green blob of Jell-O. My dream self had floated up and away to a bed made of feathers where my limbs slowly turned into that lovely goo. I'm pretty sure I was the happiest dessert ever.

I rolled out of bed with a goofy grin on my face, in awe of last night. A million questions were swarming around my head. Is that normal? Does it feel like that for every one? Has anyone else ever done that? Or is it just something I found out about? Have I ever been this relaxed?

I chuckled under my breath; grabbing the cloths I had thrown across the room from the floor in my tantrum. An inner glow from my night radiated outward; filling me with the feeling of being in control and focused- without the usual anxiety or insecurity eating at my nerves.

With a reluctant sigh, I dropped to my knees searching through my drawers for my exercise clothing. Half way to putting on my leggings, it occurred to me that I should be practicing in my own uniform, not mock gear. God having my own uniform is amazing. The wife beater is standard, but the pants and padding were different, changing the way I kicked and balanced in minuscule ways. Smiling my way into the main room with my new outfit I wasn't really thinking, still in my daze of self-content bliss lazily analysing the mobility difference in this clothing versus the clothing we trained with in school. **I am not about to let a little change get in the way of work.**

It is difficult to explain, the feeling of being in the zone. The time in which you know your moving but you don't really notice. When your robotically punching and pulling, sprinting and lifting but don't feel the deep aching. An hour can go by with out notice.

By the time I reached stretching I was dripping in sweat and my body was sore in all the right ways. With my feat hips width apart I reached for my toes, pressing my chest against my knees. Rolling back up then down again into a back bend and breathing from my belly I became aware of someone else in the room. For a moment I startled, almost loosing my balance.

**Calm down it's just Dredd. Remember formal as possible and don't engage if you don't have to**. I stayed in the bridge, unsure of what to say. I could feel his eyes locked on me and I knew he was staring at something. In my peripheral vision I could just barely see his mouth open under all of the shadow from his helmet. How nice, he ignores me almost all night then stares at me like I'm a freak show.

**Don't look at him. He does not exist. Control rookie. **I stood slowly, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. He was breathing heavy, his feet planted more then shoulder width apart, like he was going to fight. Every single muscle in his body was tight and coiled ready for attack, his knees locked and rigid.

Some one needs a little alone time- A gasp interrupted my train of thought.

Oh god! Did I just say that out loud? Please don't hear what I just said. For the love things holy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his whole body grow another degree tighter with a startled grunt. Or I think it was supposed to be, it got trapped along the way coming out as a wheezing cough. **Did I not just say don't engage with him? And what do you do say something sexual about him. **My whole face lit up aflame- did I really just say that?

I nearly ran to the bathroom- slamming the door behind me. I didn't so much as breath until my back was pressed against the plastic wall of the shower. Shivering under the freezing water my mind began to spiral out of control. **Where did that come from? He is your comrade! What did we just agree on? Don't think about him. Don't talk to him. He does not exist. **What is wrong with me? Jesus. Why would I even think that he needed to… you know…

Well I mean he is really tense and you know …. **Not the point kid. **And I mean when I- you know… touched my self I felt better, probably one of the best ideas ever, why is that against the rules? I'm more relaxed then I have been in as long as I can remember.

Wait- did I break the rules? I mean I know sex and the like is not allowed but I mean…. That wasn't sex. I don't even know if that's something people do, for all I know I discovered it. How can it be against the rules if know one else has ever heard of it? Besides, it makes me work better. Why can it be bad if it makes me more efficient?

**It does not matter why, you broke the rules. The rules clearly state no sexual activity. That was sexual. **

But- what do I do? I mean it helped me. I feel less- bad. Its like all the weight has been taken from my shoulders. I wouldn't even know what to do if I wanted to make last night right. **You would tell your senior advisor. **I don't have one. **Yes you do. **No. Not him. **You have to confess. You have to tell Dredd what you did and take responsibility for it.**

I can't tell Dredd that! Any and all respect he has for me would be gone. I can't even control a little frustration. I'm not cut out for this. Last night it hurt when he was angry with me. And I hurt from _wanting_ so bad. I needed that. And if him just being pissy made me want to cry, what would happen if I told him what I did? **Why do you care so much about what he thinks of you the assessment is over? **

I-I don't- I just- but in the moment it was the right thing to do. Even thinking about how I felt last night had me holding my head and leaning against the wall. How can the why not matter? The why changes everything.

**Really? **

Yes! I mean it changes everything- always. Everything about being Judge changes because of the why.

**Does it change whether or not you execute someone? **

No but-

**If you had known Cathy's husband was doing it to protect his family, would it have changed anything? Think long and hard before you answer Cadet because if you answer wrong you don't deserve your badge.**

My legs gave out from underneath me. My shaking hands covered my chattering mouth as my trembling stomach heaved.

What have I done?

I needed release and I broke the rules, I should lose my badge. I needed it so badly-

No but it doesn't matter -It can't matter.

What do I do?

I have to tell him.

I cant! What will he think of me?

I'm a rookie, and a damn good one he said.

If I tell him… it will all be over. He will hate me. He will personally interrogate me, he will hit me just like he did Kay. My face will be bruised and bloody, my legs burning from the whip, my eyes swollen shut from several well placed head butts.

**That pain wont be to bad… you've had worse.**

But that look he will give me. To see his scowl fall and then regain control, to see the light I imagine in his eyes to fall blank. That will hurt the worst.

By then tears were streaming down my face, mixing salty shame with the ice-like water. I pressed my legs to my chest- holding my self in a tight embrace. Everything I've done will be for nothing. **All the sacrifice and pain, that bullet wound in your stomach, those cuts and broken ribs. **Nothing.

My mind began to spiral in to the flashbacks I fought so hard against. **Don't let it take you Anderson. You are stronger then this.**

_Shrieks from a little girl looking for her parents. Big eyes flying around the barren landscape. Fire everywhere, walls of falling cement. Cassandra run! Screaming children. Sirens everywhere. Run baby girl! Gas leaking in the cracks of the windows. Mommy! A small corner under a table in what used to be a basement. More explosions. More screaming. Leather clad feat running in time. Hundreds of them sprinting just outside. Gun fire. Check for survivors. The feet disperse. _

_A window shatters and a black leather hand reached through. A figure slides in, his head twitching side to side. His hand trembling against the trigger of a gun. There's a kid here! A boy crawling under the table. The girl pushes her self against the wall. Come with me. She begins to whimper. I wont hurt you. Her little palms reach out and slap his huge gloved ones away. It is going to be okay. Her hand grabs his finger and bends is back. Ow! Kid my name is Joe; I am a Cadet with the response force. I'm here to take you somewhere safe. Tears drip from the huge pools of brown. I promise. She takes his hand._

_They run, more guns fire. She falls; she's not fast enough. The wall is crumbling! The boy picks her up and begins to run. Choking on heavy smoke and white fog. The wall is coming down to quick. He runs faster. A gun shot rings out. The boy falls and the girl lies in a pile of their combined blood._

_Rubbing alcohol. Saline. Steal. Beepers going wild. Flat lining. Running. The little girl sitting by herself in a hospital room. A bandage on her head and a cast on her leg. Stony-faced doctors in Haz-mad suits. The doctor's mouth was moving with heavy gibberish spewing out. _

_Forgotten and repressed memories of waking up and everyone telling her how lucky she was. But that was before they found out what list her parents were on. _

Joe. His name was- or is Joe. Joe saved my life. Some boy, just a Judge in training. Just a boy. With out him I would be dead. He probably died. Died for me. He gave up everything for me. For the City. I can swallow my pride. If he could give his life I can do this.

I wont tell Dredd. I will be strong. I will save someone. It might be the only difference I make. I will be Felicia and I will succeed. I will be the best mutant-borderline-fail-Judge this world has ever seen.

Shutting off the water is stood, resolved in my mission.

**Now you are going to tell Dredd that we are going to introduce ourselves to the neighbours. We will meet people. We will go to the Med Centre or a Dinner and we will listen for perps. We will associate ourselves with them. You need to get back in control.**


	4. What is Love Without Lust?

_**Sorry this chapter took so long my loves, Ma-Ma got a new job and is dealing with end of term insanity. Needless to say Ma-Ma doesn't have much extra time to take over Peach Tree's. In exchange for my late post, I'm giving you what you want. You better like it- or at the very least review it. Ma-Ma doesn't own Dredd or Anderson, only this story and you my readers.**_

* * *

"Dredd redress into civilian clothing; we should complete basic surveillance of the block." I growled at him, barely containing my own turmoil- trying to sound controlled. I had expected his to be angry or even a little surprised, but naturally I was completely wrong. A voice from behind startled me, the breath so close it tickled my neck.

"I agree that course of action would be advisable Anderson." I jumped at the sound of his rough voice, unprepared for him to be so near. My eyes stayed locked on his form until it disappeared behind a closed door and I knew I was alone.

It just Dredd. Just your partner. Right. Just a little recon. Not anything difficult. Not a big deal. **So why are you practically vibrating? **I tried to focus on removing non-existing dirt from under my newly long blue nails not on my scattered thoughts. It didn't work.

Minutes passed. Failing to slip back into my role, Dredd took me off guard throwing me my purse from the counter top shooting me a lopsided scowl that resembled a pained smirk.

"Lets go." I pitifully countered trying to catch my balance, both physically and mentally. I wish I could understand him. How can he go from essentially mute and pissed at me to concerned so quickly?

In Peach Tree's the two of us stood in the elevator we shared with an elderly man and an angry looking teenage girl. Not angry as Dredd though. His face kept flickering from a professionally honed unreadable look, to a vaguely regretful look of resolve, to looking like he wanted to strangle everyone with in a yard radius with his or her own intestines.

**Because having a linear series of emotions is just to damn simple for you.** It makes sense that he has worked by himself for so long, how could anyone work with him if they cant predict his reactions? **Well **_**you **_**could. It** **would only take a minute. Just get a handle on how he works, keep it easy to work with him. **Could I? If I looked to see _what_ was wrong, could I resist the temptation tosee _why_?

"Where to Felicia?" he asked, semingly unaware of my inner confusion. Restaurants would give us anonymity, **but they are more expensive and will attract people with more money who are less likely to be active in crime.** The shopping level is the most densely populated at this hour where we will encounter the most citizens**. It might look bizarre for two adults to wander the shopping level during work hours, but it should be crowded enough to disguise us.**

"Lets go shopping, we might run into someone." The silent 'who knows something' passed in between us in a knowing gaze.

"That would be," he struggled to sound like a civilian, "cool." His voice was almost carless, but it sounded so wrong. I had to employ every trick I knew to not burst out laughing. He sounded so relaxed but his erect posture demanded the respect of a teacher and the slant of his shoulders whispered respect.

As the door slid open, I couldn't help but notice a rust coloured stain in the corner next to the buttons. Is that from Friday? Did I kill them or did Dredd? Or was there mutiny?

Noting the possibility of a gang split in the Mama Clan**, **Dredd and I nodded at each other, simultaneously exiting the elevator, scanning the rubble for any more clues.

**This place is a wreck. **Chunks of cement and wood littered the concrete floors. Entire walls lay on the ground, exposing rows of demolished homes. **Mama's Gatling gun did its job. **Anger flared in my veins, how could she do this? How can anyone just mindlessly kill this many people? How could she destroy their homes without **any** care of who was killed or what the price was?

**Someone will pay. Mama might be dead but, until we're in control of this building, someone like her will be in charge. They are as good as dead. I will personally ensure that. ** In my peripheral vision I could see Dredds fists clench and jaw tense- **Unless Dredd makes good on that promise first.**

At the end of the hallway a glowing signs advertised everything from new full emersion holographic games and pants, to dildos and diapers- yet as we entered the overflowing corridors nothing seemed worthy of either of our attention.

No conversation was any to be had, nor was it needed. The two of us needed a moment, a moment to see what had been done. Blood and bits of unidentifiable structures littered the atrium, blanketed by pictures of missing people.

With a slight nod of the head Dredd encouraged me to start searching. During the day its easiest to keep a the voices out. Not a wall around my head- completely shielding myself would give up my advantage. More like a fog, blurring the words and turning thoughts to a dull buzz in the back of my head that I constantly screen for anything useful. For the most part the thoughts are useless.

_I'm goanna be late!_

_Shut up and take my money all ready._

_Whole milk, bread, something that started with an A… apples? Asparagus?_

_Five more pounds and that dress is gonna be hot!_

Through the webs of mundane complaints, in the back of my head a voice was tickling my brain. Tingling and buzzing filled the corners of my eyes, words beginning to form inside my ears.

_That's the one. The cracker up in the corner with the fucked up eyes- that's the bitch. Why can't she just come to my damn apartment like the last one? Micks goanna kill me if she don't got it. Hell I'll kill me if she don't got it. I haven't had none since the fucking shoot out. Just gotta wait for tonight. That's the deal. We help them take the club, we get it. Avoid the Judges Mick thinks are here. Paranoid bastard. Better fucking be true. I'm goanna kill the mutant bitch next time but not before I get my hands on her and finish what Wayne started- _

"Felicia; I know you find your own head fascinating, but it limits conversation. Anything interesting on your mind?" I could feel the double meaning in his words. To most people when I hear thoughts I might look sleepy but nothing to obvious. But Dredd was searching my face, hungry for information, his eyes climbing through my pores and scanning every flicker of movement. When my pupils grew big and the tension in my face evaporated, a whole new wall of intrigued energy blossomed from the left.

"A friend of mine is having a party, you remember the guys from Saturday morning?" trying to sound relaxed and bored was more difficult while fighting back a wave of adrenaline and keeping tabs on the mind.

"Yeah" He grunted, but I could tell he wanted to jump in front of me and shake all of the information out.

"Well there having a get together- It's a surprise party, she said this one will be more action packed then usual so why not." I hoped Dredd would understand what I was trying to say. "It's at-" I trailed off trying to pin point a location in the targets mind. "Meteor Shower. The only problem is she thinks that the guest of honour may know about who's coming and why." A meaningful glance passed between his hidden eyes and mine, understanding the threat of potential detection.

"Well then we will have to be discreet." The tone of his voice announced the end of the conversation, reinforced by the cracking sound of opening water he must have purchased while I was scanning minds. Both of us wanting to run go prepare, but knowing it would draw attention to leave after arriving so quickly.

We ate walked fast around the stores, taking no breaks for conversation.

I was craning my arm all the way back bending in the stupidest position, trying to reach the zipper when I heard the trap door open. Once back at the apartment I had returned to our secure base to prepare for our first dive back into the deep end. Dredd had said he would meet me in five minutes but he needed to take care of something first. I think he was just giving me privacy. The small room did not offer much of a place to change, so I took advantage of the time I had.

"How the fuck did Nico think this would work?" In vain, I tried to zip myself up for the umpteenth time. The stupid leather suit clung to all of my curves making reaching the zipper all but impossible. It was strapless, leaving my modesty relying on the battle between friction and gravity.

The design was not completely with out merit- even the stupid fishnets could be uncoiled and were strong enough to use for restraints. My chest had been pressed inwards to create cleavage and space for my gun. Now if I could just zip up the damn corset piece…

A grunted chuckle escaped the rough lips somewhere behind me, announcing Dredds appearance. If looks could kill, Dredd would be dead in so many ways. **You should try putting on a leather cat suit and then laugh. Jackass.**

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the surprising contact of warm calloused fingers lightly touching my back. They were like sand paper and silk. A pinkie finger slowly rotated over the ridges of my spine, causing a shiver to ripple through my body. Gentle strokes of his fingers soothed the skin I had irritated while pulling at the unyielding fabric.

His breath was closer now, just behind my neck, leaning over me. His whole being oozed a hypnotic quality. My head was spinning as his nails lightly scraped over the thin skin. **Dear lord! **His fingers left hot trails in their wake.

The heat travelled from the tips of his fingers into my skin, boiling and bubbling. A ring of flesh reacted, spreading out like an ink drop. Ever caress lead to a shiver, every shiver to a shallow intake of breath.

I may have been wearing a leather suit, but it did nothing to hide my reaction. My breast began to inflame, the flesh begging for contact, a hallow need developing in my chest. His fingers ventured up to my neck where his breath tickled at the small hairs there. Every now and then his digits would dip to the zipper pulling it up a little, but then being distracted by something and unconsciously stroking another patch of skin. Dredds fingers never ceased rubbing small innocent circles and lightly caressing, oddly transfixed with the small patches of skin showing

The muscles in my back contracted without my approval, causing my breast to rub against the rough material of the bustier styled bra. Even that minuscule amount of friction caused my nipples to harden. Heat continued to bloom outwards and downwards, traversing the steaming skin down my traitorous body.

My head span, I couldn't get enough air, the world was tilting and melting. I bit my lip, trying to cut off a moan that begged to escape. My thighs stubbly rubbed together, trying to find some relief from the swelling pressure.

Nothing about what Dredd was doing was suggestive, just lightly massaging my back. Yet a wave of heat over took me, rolling over my breasts making them tighten even further, making them beg for contact. The wave began to crest over my abdomen, building and searing ready to crash, making my walls clamp then recoil when finding nothing there.

My back arched needing more contact. Anything. Just not this empty need. Anything. My head came to rest on something tall and firm, hard and warm as a sigh escaped my pouted lips.

And just like that the zipper was yanked into place- the hands were gone leaving me alone and needy. Dredd stood in the opposite corner of the room, his hands in fists clenching the edge of the table. He was hunched over and panting, every centimetre of his body telling me to leave. I could feel the anger radiating off his body, the out of control feeling of raw indescribable instinct.

Dredds' whole body was shaking, every muscle trembling, fighting something. Recycled air in the chamber reeked of tension, filled with lustful confusion. **What the fuck? **A new wave of arousal crested, making me shiver just by the memory of his calloused hands caressing my back.

With a quiet frustrated grunt, he turned to me, his masked face glaring at my worried eyes over his shoulder. Even through the costume, I could see every single one of his features arranged to be intentionally blank in shadows of his glassy unfocused eye slits.

"Dredd…" I began unsure of what I wanted to say.

Maybe some people in the world naturally understand others better then they understand themselves. Maybe there are somehow people who just _know _what someone means, what they want- need. As Dredd turned his face began to transform, slowly cracking open, his jaw clenching and relaxing sporadically, he stood to his full height. He looked like a child, lost in wreckage screaming for their parents. Like an angry teenager looking for a cause. Like a hesitant tourist in the land of emotion. I wish I could hear just for a minute, just to understand what made him like this.

**You do not have to wonder Cassandra. **

I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, hoping to appear as if I was just trying to figure out what to say. In reality I was removing one brick after another in the wall I built around his voice- the wall I built just for him, the only one I blocked completely out; waiting for the beams of his thoughts to shine through.

Normally when I actively decide to listen to someone, it is like a dam. The fog I normally hide in slowly fades and allows just a little information through, just a handful of thoughts, a mere fraction of their mind. The thoughts flow faster and faster into a whirlpool of feelings until I am floating in them. I can change the currents and tide to walk around inside of their head while their sloshy words crashing on top of me.

But Dredd never was normal. No, instead of the relaxed trickle, his thoughts were a tsunami- breaking down every wall of resistance I had ever made around my head.

_Out of control. Heart racing. Adrenalin pumping. Out of control. Fear. Breathing. Feelings. Fear. Falling. Slipping. Tripping. Falling. _

_Hold on. Too much. Why do I care? I don't. I cant. I don't. I do not._

_Stomach lurching. Too much. She cant touch me. She isn't here. I am alone. I am solitary. Not her. No. Can't do this. She is nothing. A rookie. _

_No she's more then that. She's talented. _

_Admit it. She's brave, smart, fast thinking, dedicated, companionate, controlled. She feels. She hears._

_She can't do this. No one can. No one._

_Hitting walls just to prove I'm still solid. Bruised and bloody hands agree. No one. _

_Reaching. Making me think she will lift me and take me somewhere I don't have to calculate every breath and blink. _

_Out of the deep end._

_Her face bubbles and melts into a plastic puddle on the floor. _

_Him._

_Comrade_

_Friend_

_Brother_

_He laughs. _

_I am falling. _

Landing back in my body with a jerk, my vision span back into my own eyes. That fear, the rage that threaten to consume him. His own numbness that can't get past the nothingness. The silence that stems from secret suffering.

Human comfort is a basic instinct- to see someone in pain, and to try and help. It's not one that requires thought, just your body. But I suppose that is exactly what Judges are trained to forget.

Yet somehow I found myself closing the space between Dredd and me in two long steps. His whole body stayed tense. Like a dear in headlights pretending to be a wolf, not a single muscle moved. It must be a special talent, to be so statue-like to be able to freeze so effectively you aren't even sure if their heart is beating.

"Anderson- Stop." He tried to push me away, but not very hard. Dredd was much stronger then I, if he had wanted me away, I would have been on the floor. Yet there I stayed.

"Don't." I said powerfully as I could. His eyes were panicked as he continued to try and pull away. Not this time. My arms wrapped themselves around his torso, pressing my palms against him as if I could keep him from running.

The small contact I was able to make was like nothing I had ever felt. Little shocks of electricity flowed from the tacky polyester cape into my hands, making every little hair stand on end. It wasn't even lust, although the waves of swelling pressure were more then enough to make me want to rub my self against his leg.

No, it was the overwhelming sense of calm. Like when I stood next to him, no one could hurt me, like he wanted me to be happy, like nothing could go wrong. Like I was out of the deep end.

Unexpected waves of peace flooded my body, burying my insecurities and vows of solitude, forcing them to wither deep under ground. It was an addictive drug, the feeling of completeness. I wanted more. More security. More peace. I wanted him to feel it to. Him to want this. Everything. The security. The protection. The happiness. The gentle pleasure.

The seconds of his stillness hit me the same way a chorus of black boards being scratched by long fingernails would. Every second made me shudder, made my chest bubble with fear.

This burden is mine. Mine alone. Heavy, crushing. Its my own. Alone. My own addiction to an unwilling drug.

I don't know if he realized I wouldn't let go until he hugged me back, or if somewhere deep down he felt the same, but his hands reluctantly and loosely encircled me.

Our skin touched fuelling my own personal inferno, building neurotransmitters between us. I assume it's like being drunk, you know your doing something bad and irrational but you can't remember why it matters. All that matters is how perfect you feel.

Minutes passed by with my face against his neck, trying to just exist for a moment. In my head our feelings slid between us in a fluid dance, until I couldn't tell the difference between each of our slow breathing, our warm skin, our undulating thoughts.

I don't know how long we stood like that. The two of us touching, standing toe to toe, breathing each other in. But then again- it didn't matter. We both needed it. Needed to admit to being human.

Every millimetre of flesh touching fabric or skin that allowed our heat to intermingle pulled me deeper. Every ragged exhale made me want more. Every second of unblinking contact made me want to see more. Every muscle that contracted pulling his hands over my skin made me want to be more.

I wanted everything. Just to stand there for eternity, feeling him without any repercussions or complications of the real world. To stand in my private paradise and bask in the beauty of it all. Simply to get lost in the shadows that covered his eyes until the imagined twinkle inside them enveloped me. All I wanted was to feel this wonderful for forever.

Yet something was missing. The skin his fingers brushed over, however briefly, ached for his touch. The places he caressed were on fire, spreading the heat into my blood. My chest heaved in time with his, our hearts racing with mutual need. My body was screaming for more. To satisfy the deep need in between my legs, to alleviate the gap in my chest.

Every singe molecule was at war with its self begging me, from its knees hands clasped in front of its chest, to move his hands closer. But the same thought was tinged with the powerful urge to slide my hands around and scrape over his chest, feeling the shallow rise and fall of his chest and thundering heart. Let my nails leave pink and red trails down his pectorals. Feel the rough texture of his chest.

It wasn't intentional, really it wasn't. My mind was racing along, making my heart rush faster and my panting increase ten fold. I didn't even notice my hands trailing over his biceps or wrapping over his waist. His body parts were no different then mine, a leg and arm just the same, all was just humming energy of us.

I just closed my eyes tight and prayed my imagination wouldn't stop running wild.

His fingernail traced a vein that ran down my neck making a wave of pleasure unique to any I had felt before blaze through my body. A violent shiver ran through my body, every molecule jealous of the ones he had just touched. My arms tensed pulling Dredd's body flush to mine, desperate for contact. His hard chest pressed further against my sensitive breasts, my face further into the crook of his neck and his straining erection against my sodden centre.

"Oh god!" I squeaked as the full weight of his hips pressed into mine, his hard length pressing against me in the most incredible way. Pleasure spiralled through my body, making my mind stop working and my body take control. All of my muscles contracted, praying I would give them what they so badly needed. Small waves of friction hit me, making my press my lips together and moan. **Don't. Stop. **I couldn't stop. Don't stop.

His hands shot downwards from my upper back, griping my hips in a way I knew would bruise. His fingers dove into my flesh, the small exposed area of face looking more animal then man. It probably wasn't intentional but the way he grabbed me forced me back against his erection with even more force eliciting a louder wanton noise from the back of my throat.

A loud grunt filled the moaning air while his hands pulled me further against him, seemingly at war. Push and pull, his fingernails tugged at my leather-clad skin unsure of what it needed more.

Relief or control.

Momentary bliss or a constant neutral.

Fulfilment or dominance.

"No…" he whispered, "no!" His eyes seemed to be on fire, his low pants now coming in growls. Hips that didn't belong to me rocked seemingly unconsciously pressing against screaming nerves.

I couldn't breath. Too full too much. Every iota of my being screamed for more, for friction and pressure to release me from this purgatory. To stop the spiralling pain and turn it to the most beautiful pleasure. So close- my toes curled and a high-pitched wail escaped my parted lips.

But instead I found myself on the floor, his hands pushing me down with one strong shove. I landed in a heap, my legs curled up and next to my shoulders, hands pressing into the ground next to my head. From under my eyelashes I could vaguely see Dredd hitting something, his grunt of frustration,.

Then just like that he was gone

.

"Lets go Alex. I don't want to miss my little friend." My voice could barley contain the irony in my sentence. My friend, as if Dredd would let me have friends.

"Fine Anders- I mean Felicia." Holy shit look who's a human after all.

Power walking ahead of Dredd, even in spikey heals; I managed to get into the elevator enough in front of him enough that he had to jog before the door closed. I couldn't help but smirk. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Dredds poker face crumbling, trying to stay neutral but flickers of anger and concern passed over his features.

"I'm driving." I called; straddling the front of the shitty motorcycle the SJS supplied us with.

"No you are not."

"That wasn't a question Alexander," I revved the engine, flicking my head back at Dredd's frozen form. "Coming?" I swear to god he muttered 'Hopefully not,' but it was too quiet to be sure.

The whole room vibrated with blasting bass that threatened to deafen the roaring crowed. Blindingly bright lights flew across the room, flashing to make the room a dark cavern of blaring sound and body heat. A mass of glowing dancers looked like puppets gliding and grinding together in a disjointed stop motion video.

Whole clusters of girls in leather and fishnets spun around glowing poles, shimming and sauntering around bugged out eyes. Every man pressing himself against an undulating skinny girl on the dance floor flying on narcotics. No one was paying attention to the two awkward adults standing on the brink of the dance floor.

**Speaking of the two mature adults who should be working together to stop the gang activity…** Him? Mature? Ha. **Says the one who isn't speaking to him. **Shut up.

I knew it wasn't fair, but I was pissed. Why does Dredd get to call the shots?He wants to go cross his arms and stare at a wall, well fuck you. You can go make Joe's death in vain. I'll one up that. I'll do this by myself. I don't need your help- just stay where I can see you and I'll do this alone.

Jesus if he can't even hug without recoiling in horror then how are we supposed to blend in at 'Sexy Masquerade' night? Jesus.

**Well that wasn't quite a hug- cut him some slack kid. **

After brushing my self off I had stomped over to the mirror where I slapped the red lipstick and black eye liner on, smudging it to get the appropriate I-had-lots-of-wild-sex-last-night-and-now-I'm-to-h ungover-to-not-look-like-a-racoon effect Nico's booklet described. With a simple leather cat-girl mask that made me look mysterious, I was ready to loose myself in the name of generic uniqueness.

**We need to focus.** How are we going to blend in with Mr Social Pariah over there? If I drag him on to the dance floor people probably wont notice how uncomfortable he blue prints of Meteor Shower had shown the dance floor central to the building with only two or three blind spots. A quick look at the layout assured me that I would still be able to hear everyone even from the centre of the dance floor.

I continued to circle the building, my eyes flickering over every face searching for the woman from the shopping centre. Even as my mind focused finding her voice all I could think of was the fifteen minutes on the way to the club I had spent in utter hell.

The most pleasurable part of hell imaginable at that.

Dredd had sat as far back on the bike as he could, but apparently I drive fast when I'm pissed. Within several pinpoint turns Dredds' arms were wrapped tight around my waist. The jolt of obeying traffic laws making his pelvis rocking against my ass and lower back in a delicious rhythm. My whole body was on fire, my already swollen and needy centre, begging for more contact than the bike seat. Every now and then his forearm would slide at a particularly sharp turn and brush against the swell of my breast. I couldn't help but gasp at the memory of that contact, my breathing elevated and biting the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning.

**Focus damn it. **My eyes flickered over the scene with out really seeing. Just then a dark haired woman slinked into the throbbing crowd. Shit is that her? **We are to far away. **I can't tell from here- fuck we have to go into the pit. My training began to kick in at the prospect of interrogation. I turned and began to saunter as fast as I could into the mob trying to fallow the trail of the potential targets thoughts.

"Where do you think your going?" Growled a hand, grabbing my wrist pulling me back against something hard.

"Fallowing my friend." Flicking my bangs away from my eyes I turned back to the flashing lights. The hand stopped me again.

"Don't you think that's something you should have told me Felicia?" He ground out between his teeth trying to remain calm. I was playing with fire, poking the sleeping bear. But I couldn't stop; **He's letting her escape.**

"Oh I am sorry," I stood on my toes and grabbed the collar of his shirt and leaned my head in close enough to his face to press my lips against his ear. "I didn't realize we were trying to let her get away." With that I grabbed his wrist and pulled his stunned form on to the dance floor.

Bodies surrounded us; we were swimming through a sea of sweaty nameless masked faces and aroused tension. My body began to swing with the music, my hips slowly thrashing back and forth with my hands threaded in my hair pushing my breasts forward. I bit my lip and looked up through my lashes hoping to see the woman's outline through the stop motion effect of the strobe lights.

"Felicia what are you doing?" a stiff voice choked out from behind me.

"Blending in." Dredd's body was frozen behind me. **He's going to give us away. **I turned to him, pulling his arms around my waist and swaying my hips like the girls around me. Most of his face was obscured by a black mask, but of what I could see his jaw was in his trademark grimace. **Please loosen up**. I moved my hands from my hair to his biceps, running my hands along his tense muscles.

"What are you doing _to me_?" He moaned.

"I'm working." I ran my hands over his shoulder blades, reviling in the feeling of the defined contours. My eyes flickered between his face and the crowd trying to keep up the pretence of blending in. **I am just distracting him. I not doing it because I like it. I am not doing this because I want to. **Nope. Not one bit. Not even a little.

"I'm learning." My hands curled into balls, my fingernails scraping at his chest.

"What?" His voice was genuinely baffled and out of breath. **Anderson he is distracted, go after her! **I was supposed to be searching for a woman. I was supposed to be stopping crime. I was supposed to be searching.

"You. Confuse. Me." I hissed into his neck letting my breath tickle his skin, knowing that his keen ears would just barely pick it up over the din. No response. I allowed my hands to traverse the expanse of his chest, stroking his clavicle.

**Stop you need to focus! **

"One minute we are comrades." My lips brushed against the light stubble under his chin. "The next your in your own little bubble of self loathing." My fingers traced his covered cheekbone while my hips continued to sway.

**Do not play all your cards. What are you doing?**

"I don't like it." No answer.

**Shut the hell up you don't care about him.**

"I don't know what to expect." His lips opened to protest but I placed a single finger over them.

**Please tell me you don't actually care about what he thinks and this is all an act.**

"And I'm done with it." My index finger began to trace the Cupid's bow that was his luscious upper lip. "I am your equal." My thumb lightly scraped over his parted lips making him hiss.

My heart was hammering in my chest, my lips trembling with need. His face was inches from mine, his lovely neck begging to be bitten. My hand pressed against his lips slightly harder extracting a lovely groan from him. A new wave of need built inside of me, my panties uncomfortably damp and my face uncomfortably red.

**Anderson- do not do this. You cannot trust him. He is a bipolar emotionally handicapped Judge. There are at least ten reasons you shouldn't do this I can list off the top of my head.**

One hand was still pressed against his chest, feeling his heart racing. My fingers began to scrape the flesh pulsing beneath them. Under to cotton of his shirt I could feel his nipple pressing up against my fingernails, I could feel the moan vibrate in his chest when I scraped at the puckered flesh.

**Number One: He is a Judge **

"Shit." he hissed into my hair. Finding bravery in his rapid exhales; my fingers left the pointed flesh trailing down his stomach.

**Number Two: You are a Judge **

Jesus! A small moan escaped my mouth as I felt the taught ripples of his tight abdomen. Just a little lower… My fingers drew circles spiralling down, scraping his navel.

**Number Three: This is illegal **

So close. I could feel the heat radiating from the hard line that was his cock.

**Number Four: If you touch his dick he will and should shoot you.**

I could feel him twitching against the denim cage that kept my hand from him. It sat there, tapping against his trembling stomach begging for release.

**Number Five: You have no clue what you are doing.**

My swaying hips rubbed my thighs together, needing stimulation. All I could do was feel, everything was instinct. With no further thought, my small hand wrapped around his length.

**Number Six: You clearly are too immature to control yourself, therefor to immature to even imagine a relationship with anyone- even in the hypothetical **_**and**_** impossible situation in which that was an option.**

Fingers tracing up and down, feeling the long contours of him. I wanted it all. Everything. All of it. All of him. Every throbbing vein, every slight temperature fluctuation, every small jerking muscle, every small dip or dent. Everything.

**Number Seven: He is as unpredictable as all hell.**

"If you have one iota of a modicum of goddamn self preservation stay still," Dredds voice was unlike anything I had heard before.

**Number Eight: You are clearly suicidal.**

It was rage, snarling in the night with hands begging to choke the first neck they can lock their pure red tinted vision on to.

**Number Nine: You have zero chance of him wanting you back. **

It was fear, shaking with its feet tucked onto their bed and head under the covers clutching a flashlight to its chest.

** Number Ten: You care too much about him.**

It was lust; undiluted need tearing though every emotion with molten urgency that slips into your blood stream making you sweat pant and beg with an arched back and heavy lidded eyes.

For a moment I couldn't breath. For a moment I was so off balance I was afraid I would fall. For a moment my heart was beating out of my chest at seeing him bare his feelings in front of me. For a moment I was willing to step away and make him feel comfortable.

But a moment passes quickly.

**And bonus; Number Eleven: You don't deserve him. **

Using his grip on my arm as leverage I pulled my face close to his, my artificially blue eyes staring straight into his shadows. My breast pressed into his heaving chest, with some satisfaction I noticed his breathing hitch even more.

His hips thrust forward, rocking and swaying against mine, trapping my hand against him. I could feel the hard line of him begging for my hand to reach inside. Begging for relief.

I could not help but notice his lips were inches from mine. My hand was frozen against Dredd's stomach, immobilized between my hips and his cock. His shadowed eyes locked on mine. I couldn't stop myself. There was nothing more in the moment I wanted then him.

His hands moved from my waist, clutching my shoulders and face as if to pull me away. I could feel his fingers flexing around my waist, trying to pull me closer with muscles quivering with then need to shove me away. But something inside of him was fighting, making him freeze. Even as his hands warred with them selves, he began to relax.

A gasp moved through his lips, as my hand pressed harder against the softer top of him. I couldn't help but moan at the feeling of him twitching inside his pants, pulling my blood to the surface making my heart pulse impossibly faster. I was not in control as his fingers contracted at the sound of my moan, I had no say in them pulling me closer to him, and it was not my choice when he threaded his left hand in my hair. But it was a damned good decision.

Unsure of myself, but far too aroused to be embarrassed I pressed my lips onto his neck and sucked gently. Running the tip of my tongue over the skin, I rejoiced in the grunted moan from the back his throat.

And then teeth were slipping around his jugular, nipping lightly at him. I was lapping at his jaw line. It was rolling over and feeling the texture of his perpetual five o'clock shadow.

It wasn't practiced or done with finesse. It was sloppy and passionate, there was no pretence. Just need. Desperate moans of two people who cannot get close enough to each other. Rushed fingers pulling at clothing and hair. Needy nerves begging for more.

I couldn't breath it was too much- or not enough; I couldn't tell. Reluctantly I pulled my mouth from neck, panting. His hand pulled my hair, bending my head back exposing my neck. Lips meeting the delicate skin of the jugular, sucking and biting with gentle tongue. My moans filled the air around us, my muscles seizing with need.

"Casandra," he moaned around my jaw. My name. My fucking name. His eyes were staring up at mine, I couldn't see them but in my mind his pupils were just as huge and lust blown as mine. I couldn't control myself. My hand that was pinned between us began to move again, squeezing and stroking needing him to feel as much pleasure as I was. "Fuck." He choked out, "Harder." His hips were working against my hand with a vengeance, needing more contact. Needing me.

I needed him right back.

Grabbing his hands in my hair, I placed them on my ass while sliding my arms around his neck. Thank God for Judge reflexes. With a jump I wrapped my legs around his waist, rubbing my self against him harder. Every bump, every grind, every breath pressed his against me. Every second was one of pleasure and pain tormenting me in a delicious dance of need.

"I've never- never anything like- like this" I groaned pressing back against him harder to emphasize my point.

"Never. Me-" What ever else he was going to say was cut off by me beginning to move up and down against his thrusts. We were lost in a hurricane of lips and necks, the only thing keep us to the ground was the friction between our bodies. But even that was stretching threatening to snap and send us flying.

The very tip of him was pressing against my clit in such away I was certain I was going to die. It was too wonderful. To glorious. Every thrust up his hips against my centre, every time I ground back down on him, every moan and grunt was gravity.

I could feel my thighs trembling, my abdomen tightening. My muscles were all flexing, preparing to launch me into the world of bliss just moments away.

"Dredd- please. Please." I rubbed harder, inching closer to the glorious release awaiting me. "I'm so, please, fuck- so close." My voice was a panted whine. "I need- need"

"This…everything-" the next words were swallowed by the way his hips moved. Faster and harder they pumped against me, the contractions in me were coming so close together. Almost.

"More!" I wailed, needing something to make me fall. A push, a nudge, a whisper anything. Just then I saw his eyes flutter, his mouth drop open and his thrusts become erratic. "Now!" A growl started low in his chest working up higher until he was burying his head in my cleavage with his teeth latched onto the sensitive flesh of the top of my breast.

"Holy- fucking hell! Dredd!" I let a strangled scream escaped my lips as my hips slammed back down onto his. Fireworks and explosions littered my vision; the roar of pulsing blood in my ears silenced everything except for Dredds quiet chanting over and over under his breath.

I was flying, every nerve ending in my body was screaming. Every muscle clenching and releasing violently. My eyes slammed shut, my toes curled, my back arched. Pleasure attacked my body with one earth shattering thrust.

I felt warm liquid hit my stomach, Dredds muscles violently squeezing and vibrating with the intensity of our release. Everything was glowing, the room was hot, the music stopped; there was nothing just us.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I chanted under my breath as the waves began to dissipate leaving my body a trembling mess of satisfaction. Every inch of my being sang with the beauty of it, the tension gone, Dredds firm embrace as he gently placed my on my feet, the shaky way I stumbled still dazed from pleasure.

It wasn't until my hearing returned that I realized the music had stopped in favour of sirens. That the explosions behind my eyes had not been in my imagination.

The voices screamed into my mind completely obliterating any thoughts I had.

_Shit! _

_We're gonna die._

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

_Help! _

_Where is she? _

_I can't breathe. _

_Run!_

_Where are the Judges?_

**Where were the Judges indeed, Anderson?**

* * *

**_Maybe it wasn't everything you wanted- but certainly a taste. Now review Peachtree's if you want more._**


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